the Butterfly

The butterfly leaves behind the work and pain of the caterpillar.

I have an interesting relationship with the butterfly.  When my dad passed away the first sign of his lingering existence came in the form of an orange butterfly.  I know that seems crazy, but bear with me.  When Eden was only five we discovered she had an amazing talent – she shined at the piano.  Mind you, my dad played the piano for a living and I have no clue where to even begin when I sit at a piano, but not Eden.  Her tiny fingers glided over each key as she confidently knew the sound it would make.  I was enamored.

One special, beautiful day I pulled up to her piano lesson and found a gorgeous, orange butterfly circling our car.  Almost with an unmatched enthusiasm to say, “I cannot wait to escort you, little child, to the piano.”

At first, I dismissed the butterfly.  Although curious, I was not an interpreter of signs or wonders – just a mom dropping off her kid at piano lessons.

The next week, the butterfly was there again, greeting us in the same fashion and again, escorting the apple of my eye all the way to the piano.  By the third week I was open to interpreting the significance of the butterfly. Orange?  Hmm…my dad was an Oklahoma State University fraternity boy that someone had just mentioned seeing his picture in the basement.  Piano lessons…hmmm…my dad made his living from his talent of playing the piano.  Dad?

The orange butterfly brought tears.  The orange butterfly brought questions.  The orange butterfly, most importantly, brought a life lesson.

As I studied the butterfly I began to realize that it spent more time as a caterpillar than a butterfly.  What an example of hard work and struggle, preparing for the biggest change known in the insect world.  The caterpillar must strategize for change.  The caterpillar plans for a full body change knowing that it is the last two weeks of life in full glory.

Aren’t we the same?  Isn’t it years of life focused on ambition, titles, and significance…only to find that freedom is more important?

The butterfly leaves and never returns, unlike the salmon.  The butterfly spends two weeks relishing in self-actualization on display.  The butterfly is not only beautiful, but free.

My daughter and I are training for a run right now.  As we left the back porch ready to embark on a two-and-half mile run the orange butterfly joined us.  I was instantly reminded of my dad’s spirit, one of freedom, one of pursuit.  As we ran, Eden decided it would be fun to run through a muddy puddle.  I laughed at my cautious child wishing to be rebellious, even if for only a moment, and looked back at the footprints.  Two sets, mine and hers.  Two butterflies running freely.  Two girls given the privilege of freedom from what the world would tell us we must be.  Two adventurers willing, if only for a brief moment, to fly.

Our Father gives us that privilege.  Our Father causes us, the once struggling caterpillar, to shed the unwanted struggles and forget.  He causes us to fly.  He creates the beauty.

The butterfly leaves behind the work and pain of the caterpillar.  The butterfly is known by the Creator.