Skip to main content

Take These Broken Wings and Learn to Fly


I started this blog on Tuesday but ran out of time to finish it (or so I thought). Seems like the ending was not written yet and so I had to wait.

Over the weekend, the girls found a butterfly (moth?) with a wounded wing. They came peeling into the kitchen looking for plastic ware they could poke holes in for a habitat. They gently placed the broken butterfly in the dish, gave it a flower (to eat?) and a paper towel soaked in water (to drink). I’m not sure about the flag, but knowing them I’m sure it was for add some pizazz.

Little sister checked on her patient faithfully each day and even wrote notes to the neighbor-girl and put them in her mailbox with updates (“are [sic] butterfly is doing good;” “gave her some water to drink”). 

On Tuesday morning, as I was leaving for work I did a check for myself and came to realization that our patient had died. I took the photo you see and immediately started having a deep, internal philosophical debate about whether to toss the butterfly and let her think it had flown away or to talk to her about it and have a proper burial. Thus, the beginning of what was supposed to be this blog entry.

After a long, hard, contentious day Tuesday, I got home and Little came running to meet me outside screaming “our butterfly got better and flew away!” She was beaming with pure, unadulterated joy. I met her with equal (though skeptical) excitement. I checked and, sure enough, the habitat had no resident. It was still upright with flower and water source in place; just absent a butterfly.

I was sure I knew what had really happened and waited until the kids weren’t around to ask the Hubs - did you toss the butterfly so the girls wouldn’t be sad? His answer literally stopped me dead in my tracks - he didn’t touch it.

So, in other words, the butterfly wasn’t dead. The butterfly got better. The butterfly flew away!

This revelation overwhelmed me with emotion and relief. It was a true resurrection when all seemed lost. What seemed dead, had life. With the faith of a sweet child, who knew all things were made new in Christ, that poor butterfly spread her broken wings. I had to check my own faith and brokenness at this door and lay it all at the cross, right then and there. Through Jesus we will all be made whole if only we have the faith to allow him in. 

And to add in the exuberant joy she had, with that unwavering faith, even in the face of seeming defeat - what a wonderful world it could be.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I Want You To Have It All

As those of you who follow me on IG know, I've thrown the idea(l) of a work-life balance out the proverbial window. Those scales will never balance and there will be days and weeks they tip one way before dropping back the other. There are times I am baking and carpooling like some modern day Donna Reed with a Best Mom coffee mug and other times where I feel like the Queen of the Courtroom, only to find out my kid didn't have lunch at school or forgot her ballet shoes. As an example, it is a known fact around my office that when I am in a big trial someone in my house is going to have a major illness  - literally these have ranged from pneumonia to emergency appendectomy. Talk about mom guilt - not only am I not there to love on them, I can't even really give them any mental energy until I am out of the courtroom. All of that is to say that life, an parenting, and lawyering are all like that - you win some, you lose some. Chasing some pipe dream of balance and harmony only ...
Post a Comment
Read more

I'll Come Runnin'

Sometimes being a working mom is the pits. I’m not talking about the early morning meetings on less than a few hours of sleep or the late night ones which prevent me from bedtime prayers and tucking in. I’m not talking about working with a baby on one hip and a phone on one shoulder, or with spit up on my documents or, better yet, my blouse. I’m not even talking about the pangs of guilt I feel every time she comes down with something “she caught at daycare.” It’s something much deeper than that. Something that I know I have to fight to overcome. It’s the overwhelming sadness of not being there to witness every discovery, kiss every boo-boo, and rock her every time the world is not perfect. It’s the feeling of having to say goodbye, even if just for a short time. I guess that feeling isn’t unique to working moms. I think it’s something every mom feels at one time or another. Working moms just get it earlier…and maybe more frequently. Even those moms who are home right now...
Post a Comment
Read more

Don't Know What You've Got 'Till It's Gone

Fair warning – this post may turn into a saccharine ode to my beloved and not-too-long-gone-and-not-at-all-lost hubby. Sadly, he hasn’t even been gone 24-hours and I’m already doing a tribute. It’s because I’ve been in quite the frenzy since he left, so much so that I double-checked myself in the car to make sure all the appropriate articles of clothing were on the proper parts of my body. Don’t get me wrong, I have always recognized what a good husband and daddy my Hubby is and I appreciate him to no end. But I never realized just how much the little things (like his presence) help me to keep my sanity. It all started yesterday. I picked Pumpkin up from school per usual. Nothing out of the ordinary there. We get home (to a clean home, no less – thank God for cleaning lady Wednesday). I let the dogs out and pour Pumpkin's evening milk cocktail. Again, typical M.O. The trash is sitting out by the door waiting for me to bring down to the big can on my way out again. No big deal – it’...
Post a Comment
Read more