Tags
butterflies, change, God, grandmothers, love, mothers, Peace
Readers,
I rarely write on my everyday life. I probably should–most bloggers do–but my life is fairly uninteresting. Well, it is interesting and different but not interesting for other people. However, something extraordinary happen the other day. I believe in God, miracles, and angels. I believe there is a greater force than all of us; yet, more so this week than ever. My second major was Religious Studies, so I read countless secular arguments against “archaic organized religions” where people were critiqued for being childish (I have an argument against those critiques but that is for another day). Because of those critiques, I want to share my story because I want others not to feel silly for believing.
My grandmother called me her little butterfly. I don’t know if it was because I never stopped moving when I was younger or for my ongoing fascination with butterflies, either way it caught on. In her very last words to me, she called me her “Little Butterfly”. Of course, my family missed her terribly especially my mother and I. We took comfort in seeing butterflies and thinking of her. Sometimes, we liked to say, half-jokingly and yet very seriously, that she was there as the butterfly. Later in my first year of college, my neighbor, who was born and raised in Mexico, was visiting my dorm and saw my room decked out in green and purple butterflies: “Do you know that butterflies are loved ones saying hello?”. I freaked out. No! I didn’t know but I did know!? I never knew others thought this; somehow, this made our little comfort even more real.
On Saturday, I was helping my mother make a giant change. She was terribly uneasy that day because we were all unsure whether we were doing the right thing. It was the type of decision that closed the door to the past forever and left the future blurry. My mother was finishing up while we all headed over to the car, ready to leave. I suddenly had the feeling that I needed to go to my mom, just for moral support or help or whatever. As I was standing with her, my mother stalled, still unsure she was ready to turn away, and then a miracle happened. A large yellow butterfly came floating straight toward us. We both broke out smiling so I said hello! As soon as I said that, our little beauty circled right over to me and danced a hand’s width in front of my face. I could not stop smiling and laughing because I knew that was my grandmother agreeing with our decision and telling us she was still watching over us and protecting us. I looked at my mother, who at this point now was in tears, nodding. She knew too. Everything was going to be alright.
Other strange things have happened this week and year that has shown me that God is watching over my family, but some of those stories are not mine to share. I can only give thanks and offer my truest love to God. You may think I am childish, you may think I am looking for things and merely forcing myself to see them in my search but I know that what I saw and what I felt was and is all very real.
Readers, may you receive God’s love and peace.