I decided to cheat today and use an old writing. Not so much that I don't feel like writing, but this is so appropriate for what I am feeling today, that I can't say it any better than I already did. So here you go.. Flashback from 2002..
A Season of Butterflies
Out in the southwestern desert, we don’t have seasons like every other place on earth. Yes, occasionally there is the abrupt change of color in the leaves for fall, in fact, I think I have seen that twice in the 26 years I have lived here. And most assuredly, we have snow, I remember 5 times exactly. And of course, there is spring, sometime in mid December, when most of us who came from somewhere else are ready to go hibernate somewhere else. No, it is not the same here, but God does send seasons.
There is the traffic season. This occurs twice a year, once before Christmas when the snowbirds arrive, and once when school is out and everyone is trying to escape to a cooler climate. There is hunting season, which in Tucson means that Dillard's is having a sale on sheets, and the women have blood in their eye, and a credit card firmly clenched in their hand.
But really, we do have seasons here. One of them, Fall, is almost imperceptible, just a hint of light changing, and then it is gone. I mark this season by what I see. One of the things I see are Monarch Butterflies.
Monarchs are beautiful creatures, even if they are bugs. They are enormous, and drift through the sky like birds, and may even fool you into believing they are if you don’t have enough patience to watch. Every year they migrate, (YES, I said migrate) to Mexico to breed, and then return to lay their eggs. Lately I have seen them drifting through the sky southward. This tells me that Fall has arrived, and soon another season will pass. Just like the seasons in life pass. Some of them so quickly they too are almost imperceptible.
In reality, when the seasons change we are happy at first and then we start to moan about whatever it is we don’t like about the season. If it is Summer, we are ready for the heat to end, If it is Fall we are ready for snow to come, If it is spring, we are ready for Summer to hit. If it is the season of traffic, we want the snowbirds to leave, and if it is the season of sales, we don't like what is on sale. It seems we are happy, but it is only for a brief period of time, and then we are looking for something more. I think this is part of why God created deserts, to teach us to be content with what we have.
Arizona is unlike any place on earth. Dry, hot, but green. Go figure. One of the amazing things I see about this land is that people react different here than anywhere I have ever been. In Colorado, where I lived prior to my desert experience, if it rained everyone ran indoors. When it rains in Arizona, everyone rushes outside to see it before it is gone. Then of course, we start to complain about the humidity. As humans, we just can’t seem to be content, and this is why God created seasons, I believe. To wake us up, to give us something to think about, to turn our hearts and eyes back toward Him.
Today as I watched the season of the Butterflies enter, I watched as they drifted around on the Fall breeze and I thought about how discontent I have been with my life at times. I find myself wanting to go home, to Colorado, but when I was there I wanted to go everywhere else. I guess I am sort of like those butterflies, always having the urge to migrate. I think if I really stopped to see what they go through just in their everyday existence, I might be more content at home.
I can picture Ma and Pa Monarch, packing all their shoes, 3 pair each for an outing, and Ma exclaiming that she just doesn't have enough shoes, and there is a sale going on at Dillard's and can't they just wait until the traffic season comes, so she can hit the 75% off sale. Pa is glaring at her, and muttering under his butterfly breath, that he needs a Stinkin' new RV, cause last time they flew south, they almost got plowed down by a flock of Canadian Geese, (who by the way, Pa says are aliens, and really should take themselves back to where ever it is Canadian Geese come from.) He is busily packing all of his hunting equipment, and wondering where he left the shells to his itty bitty butterfly shotgun, ‘cause this time when those rude geese go by at 120 miles per hour, he has a present for them, and he snickers under his breath.
In the end they just give up and flap their big butterfly wings and head south, with Ma complaining she is not sure if she left the coffeemaker turned off. Pa is busy keeping an eye out for those darn geese.
Now how silly does this really sound? In reality, it actually sounds just like people. Think of that, before you start to pride yourself on being Homo Erectus. A butterfly has more common sense than a human does.
He knows when to pack and leave, and when to come back. He sees the times and seasons, and does what he is supposed to do without complaint. He notices every little bit of seasonal change, because his existence, and the future existence of his offspring, depends on it. He is totally aware of the things God has put in place for him, and he doesn’t sit around complaining and waiting for something good to happen.
Now I like seasons, some more than others. And this season of the butterflies opens my eyes to see something much subtler than a change of light or the direction of the sun. It opens my eyes to see the changes of the seasons of my soul. I think perhaps I should take heed, without complaint, and pack all of my own shoes, take the lead of the butterflies, sans shotgun, and be grateful I got to see another season, either of the earth, or my soul.
So I am making a promise to myself, in writing so in case the season of Alzheimer's hits me I won't forget,
To be content in what God gives, spring or summer, winter or fall, Traffic or hunting season, and yes, even those dry desert seasons of the soul. Today I think I will just enjoy the butterflies.
A Season of Butterflies
Out in the southwestern desert, we don’t have seasons like every other place on earth. Yes, occasionally there is the abrupt change of color in the leaves for fall, in fact, I think I have seen that twice in the 26 years I have lived here. And most assuredly, we have snow, I remember 5 times exactly. And of course, there is spring, sometime in mid December, when most of us who came from somewhere else are ready to go hibernate somewhere else. No, it is not the same here, but God does send seasons.
There is the traffic season. This occurs twice a year, once before Christmas when the snowbirds arrive, and once when school is out and everyone is trying to escape to a cooler climate. There is hunting season, which in Tucson means that Dillard's is having a sale on sheets, and the women have blood in their eye, and a credit card firmly clenched in their hand.
But really, we do have seasons here. One of them, Fall, is almost imperceptible, just a hint of light changing, and then it is gone. I mark this season by what I see. One of the things I see are Monarch Butterflies.
Monarchs are beautiful creatures, even if they are bugs. They are enormous, and drift through the sky like birds, and may even fool you into believing they are if you don’t have enough patience to watch. Every year they migrate, (YES, I said migrate) to Mexico to breed, and then return to lay their eggs. Lately I have seen them drifting through the sky southward. This tells me that Fall has arrived, and soon another season will pass. Just like the seasons in life pass. Some of them so quickly they too are almost imperceptible.
In reality, when the seasons change we are happy at first and then we start to moan about whatever it is we don’t like about the season. If it is Summer, we are ready for the heat to end, If it is Fall we are ready for snow to come, If it is spring, we are ready for Summer to hit. If it is the season of traffic, we want the snowbirds to leave, and if it is the season of sales, we don't like what is on sale. It seems we are happy, but it is only for a brief period of time, and then we are looking for something more. I think this is part of why God created deserts, to teach us to be content with what we have.
Arizona is unlike any place on earth. Dry, hot, but green. Go figure. One of the amazing things I see about this land is that people react different here than anywhere I have ever been. In Colorado, where I lived prior to my desert experience, if it rained everyone ran indoors. When it rains in Arizona, everyone rushes outside to see it before it is gone. Then of course, we start to complain about the humidity. As humans, we just can’t seem to be content, and this is why God created seasons, I believe. To wake us up, to give us something to think about, to turn our hearts and eyes back toward Him.
Today as I watched the season of the Butterflies enter, I watched as they drifted around on the Fall breeze and I thought about how discontent I have been with my life at times. I find myself wanting to go home, to Colorado, but when I was there I wanted to go everywhere else. I guess I am sort of like those butterflies, always having the urge to migrate. I think if I really stopped to see what they go through just in their everyday existence, I might be more content at home.
I can picture Ma and Pa Monarch, packing all their shoes, 3 pair each for an outing, and Ma exclaiming that she just doesn't have enough shoes, and there is a sale going on at Dillard's and can't they just wait until the traffic season comes, so she can hit the 75% off sale. Pa is glaring at her, and muttering under his butterfly breath, that he needs a Stinkin' new RV, cause last time they flew south, they almost got plowed down by a flock of Canadian Geese, (who by the way, Pa says are aliens, and really should take themselves back to where ever it is Canadian Geese come from.) He is busily packing all of his hunting equipment, and wondering where he left the shells to his itty bitty butterfly shotgun, ‘cause this time when those rude geese go by at 120 miles per hour, he has a present for them, and he snickers under his breath.
In the end they just give up and flap their big butterfly wings and head south, with Ma complaining she is not sure if she left the coffeemaker turned off. Pa is busy keeping an eye out for those darn geese.
Now how silly does this really sound? In reality, it actually sounds just like people. Think of that, before you start to pride yourself on being Homo Erectus. A butterfly has more common sense than a human does.
He knows when to pack and leave, and when to come back. He sees the times and seasons, and does what he is supposed to do without complaint. He notices every little bit of seasonal change, because his existence, and the future existence of his offspring, depends on it. He is totally aware of the things God has put in place for him, and he doesn’t sit around complaining and waiting for something good to happen.
Now I like seasons, some more than others. And this season of the butterflies opens my eyes to see something much subtler than a change of light or the direction of the sun. It opens my eyes to see the changes of the seasons of my soul. I think perhaps I should take heed, without complaint, and pack all of my own shoes, take the lead of the butterflies, sans shotgun, and be grateful I got to see another season, either of the earth, or my soul.
So I am making a promise to myself, in writing so in case the season of Alzheimer's hits me I won't forget,
To be content in what God gives, spring or summer, winter or fall, Traffic or hunting season, and yes, even those dry desert seasons of the soul. Today I think I will just enjoy the butterflies.
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