The season of Butterflies . . . I get so excited when the summer heat brings in these fluttering beauties. And usually, my heart starts to remembering —
It was the fall of 1986, and my husband and I were preparing to move our family, (the 2 of us and our 6 year old and 1 year old sons) across the country. We were following the call of Jesus, as He asked us to come with Him to a new and different place. Scary and exciting, sad and hope-filled, my emotions were all over the place then.
This was before the day of internet easy connections, so stories were saved and gathered in my heart from family and friends and books and magazines. I had read a sweet story in Guideposts about a Mom and her daughter raising Monarch Butterflies, and having the joy of those beautiful creatures fluttering around them stirred a deep longing in my heart. I prayed that somehow God would give us the beauty that we needed to make this giant leap of faith into the unknown, hardly realizing the depth that He would go to just to show us how much He cared for us.
As the moving van was loading our furniture, I sat in the grass outside our inner-city home and thought of all of the memories we had gathered in those crowded years of college and babies and ministries-just-beginning. When something fluttered over my head, I looked up to see a beautiful Monarch Butterfly floating overhead. “Thank you, God,” I whispered in awe, as it continued to flow back and forth around me the entire time I watched the movers.
I held onto that picture the next morning as we pulled away from our friend’s driveway and headed towards the interstate. The miles gathered quickly as we crossed over the state line heading into Iowa. But something caught my eye, and we looked in amazement as first one Monarch Butterfly, then another, and another, until there were dozens and dozens of Monarchs making the same southwesterly journey that we were on. We had been given the chance to join in with their yearly migration, as God was sending us on our own migration. Every day of the trip they were with us, until the final day when we crossed the California state line, when they must have veered south into Mexico towards their resting place. On that day, slightly disappointed that we had not seen a single Monarch, we opened one final card from a friend back home. She had told us to wait until we were in California to open it. Not knowing my heart-held story of promise, she had chosen a card with, (you guessed it) a monarch butterfly on it. The God who called us to follow Him was faithful to keep us in that journey.