Butterflies and Unexpected Miracles
But then again, I am not most people.
In certain circles a butterfly sighting might bring a wee bit of interest.
Nature lovers, little children and puppies, tree huggers, photography buffs, and the group who no one ever wishes to belong, any of us who grieve a loved one.
The butterfly becomes a symbol of something greater than we can see with our finite eyes.
Many funeral homes use it as a logo, to try and soften the reason we attend.
Absolutely nothing can soften the grief we feel.
The time spent planning these things are done in dull shock, barely aware of anything except the gaping hole in our hearts.
But eventually, as time passes and the gaping wound builds scar tissue, we can see how a butterfly does bring a small bit of hope to a bleeding heart.
The funny little striped caterpillar eats as much as it possibly can before the magic begins.
He can not stay a caterpillar and fly high and free.
He builds a safety net to rest and grow and change.
He doesn't instantly change, it takes time and hard work.
When the change is final, he is nothing like before.
He is beautiful and perfect, but it wasn't easy.
A butterfly is nothing less than a miracle!
Once you have lost a loved one, butterflies become special reminders that we too, are a miracle.
My son, Nathanael is blessed and perfect. He has shed his finite body and his soul is set free.
He was a miracle from the start, a baby who never should have made it.
A child who knew more tragedies than any should ever bear.
A young man who loved fiercely and lived well.
The race has been won and he fought bravely.
The miracle of life as we know it became freedom and peace.
Because I can no longer see my son, I search for miracles every day.
I think I have always seen the unusual, the unseen treasures all around.
As a child, I would have been labeled a dreamer, a time waster, an airhead.
But I think those who choose to notice the little things can be an inspiration to those who do not see.
How many can say they ever sat and watched an anthill as the troops carried their food back to the nest?
Sometimes we just need a different perspective to see what's right in front of us.
I don't hate them either.
They are another miracle of nature to admire... from afar!
How they move through the grass so sleek and silent.
How they shed their skin as they grow.
There's a few other characteristics I will leave out for the more squeamish crowd!
But as a symbol of growth, we must shed what isn't useful in order to become stronger.
Miracles.
My son loved snakes.
We have so many stories and memories about them together.
So I was mildly amused when I saw this skin right by our sidewalk, tucked in the grass.
Much to my husband's chagrin, I began to extract it from the entangled grass.
"What are you going to do with that?" He asks.
"Keep it, of course!" I laugh.
It was perfect.
Totally complete, no rips, eyes to tail little garden snakeskin.
I just can see my son laughing, shaking his head at me.
Then he probably would take the skin and hang it on his wall!!
It now sits in their childhood treasure box from the tree fort.
Another testament of daily miracles.
I used the critter box from all those years ago.
A little moss, a few sticks, a dish of water, daily crickets and a fruit fly or two,
makes for a very nice Bed & Breakfast for a couple of tiny frogs!
The miracle here was I had been feeding two frogs for awhile before I even knew it.
My oldest son had put another in there and didn't tell me.
He was laughing when I found them together!
Then I let them go this week before it became too close to the fourth year of that dreaded date I never want to recall again. I had to release Nathanael's last bullfrog then. I couldn't bear to keep it captive.
Setting the frogs free was a symbol of my deep grief.
There are some things I must let go and other things I can hold close to my heart forever.
If you are grieving, I believe we have been given new eyes to see the miracles others might just wave away as coincidence.
God knows what we need.
God knows what we like.
God loves to give his children good things.
The evil in this world is not from Him.
The best part about miracles is they come when you least expect it.
The day that I released my tiny froggy friends, I was more than just a little sad.
Right on cue, God sends me a butterfly at my feet.
It was fresh and bright, most likely still a little wet.
I walked towards it and it tried to fly.
It fluttered in small circles around me.
Then gracefully took to the sky and landed on our biggest maple tree.
The same tree that Nathanael loved to take pictures of in different seasons.
That is where I took a picture of it, high in the branches, resting until it took flight as a brand new creature.
I don't know for certain when our loved ones can see us, but I do believe they are watching and cheering us on to the finish line.
So whenever I see something that Nathanael would have liked, or a heart-shaped cloud,
or I hear one of his songs at just the right moment - then I know it is a miracle from heaven.
Just like you, I am counting the seconds until I can hold my loved ones forever.
Looking to the sky, listening for any signs of His love for us.
Searching for miracles to span time and space, anything to bridge the gap between here and eternity.
Looking for miracles everywhere I go.
I hope you find a miracle today!
Miracles are everywhere, even on this journey
written by: Sue Leerhoff
Brick by Brick
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