A Million Butterflies

photo by John Mc Tarnaghan

As I woke in the wee hours one day last week, three words drifted into my mind: a million butterflies. A smile transformed my curmudgeon morning self. The weight of several long days lifted and I looked forward to living further from them.

I thought about a million butterflies most of the morning: vibrant colors reflected in light; creatures that once crawled, dancing in flight. I imagined mid air celebration as the transformed beauties defied the gravity that once held them captive.

By days end, I was back in a doctor's office with Sam. His chest hurt when he took a breath. "Only a little," he told the doctor. But she heard wheezing.

More medicine. Blood work. A breathing treatment. Mom worry. By the time I crawled into bed, I lugged a hundred pounds of emotional weight with me.

A million butterflies. A hundred pounds. Waves of weirdness in between.

"Then we will no longer be tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of men in their deceitful scheming. Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will in all things grow up into him who is the Head, that is Christ." (Eph. 4: 14 - 15 NIV)

Oh to remain steadfast. Grounded in Christ. Unmoved by circumstance. Dancing as one of a million butterflies.

Today it's a hope... and a choice.

Me and My Sister's Kirby

Meet Rara's Kirby

Truth: Ever since my back surgery, I haven't vacuumed much. The good news? My carpet hides my cleaning failure well.

Part of the reason is simply because my Hoover is very old.

Even with a clean bag, my house smelled more like dust after I vacuumed than before, setting off Sam's allergies. Pushing the contraption hurt my leg. Letting it run made Sam sneeze. So it stayed in the front closet.

But when everyone was coming for Thanksgiving dinner last November, I longed for a deep clean. I'd been studying vacuums on the Internet and Kirby's - even refurbished Kirby's - ranked high. Since my sister has one and Sammy's allergies wouldn't calm, I asked if I could borrow hers to attack the dust mites and all other evils lurking in my carpet. She agreed and Sam stopped by to pick it up.

We cleared the living room furniture and plugged that Kirby in. I knew Kirby's were heavy but didn't anticipate it being quite as heavy as it was.  My sister had a newer model that I'd read was supposed to be easier to push. But when I started to use it, it felt like I was shoving 20 pounds of bricks across my carpet.  I wanted those dust mites and all other evils gone bad enough that I pushed till my leg almost fell off.

By the time the boys and I left for the farm the next day, I was in bad shape. But my house was clean; my carpet, vacuumed. So relief carried me above the pain.

When I talked to my sister about it later, she asked if I'd pushed the bottom pedals. "What pedals?" I asked. "The ones that make it self propel, " she answered.

Truth: I didn't have to exhaust my leg to vacuum the carpet. That reality became clear when I borrowed it again this week. Because this time, I pushed the right buttons and it moved across the floor with ease. I vacuumed on a day my whole left side hurt and it didn't make things worse.

Sometimes I get bogged down by everything but trudge forward with my 20 pound (or more) load. As I lay awake last night I heard,  “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” (Matt. 11: 28-30)

His yoke is easy? Really? His burden is light??

That's what he said... and that's what I learned from my sister's Kirby this week.

Light. Easy.

Gentle. Humble.

Rest.

iamsecond.com

My alarm rang at 6:21 this morning. Sam was already moving upstairs, so I reset the alarm for 6:25 - four minutes later. I do strange things at that time in the morning, especially when I've slept on the living room floor due to pain.

Once upright, I fixed three packets of oatmeal, toasted a bagel, and set aside a banana before fussing at Sam for wearing really old slider sandals that I knew wouldn't support his feet all day. He leaves school this afternoon and heads straight to the Georgia Tech pool for the high school state swim meet and didn't want to bother with his tennis shoes.

All I could think about was the fact that his ankles would be worn before he swam tonight.  But that's me being the mom who wants to fix everything - especially after he had to go back on antibiotics yesterday for the third time in less than a month.

After he left, I burrowed under the covers on my bed and woke around 9. I almost made coffee after a short stint at my computer but embraced the warmth of my covers again instead. The next time I looked at my clock it was 11:30.  I still feel tired, though, maybe even a little down, struggling to find peace.

It could be medicine changes. I recently increased the medicine that fuels my central nervous system and found that I could climb a  really long set of stairs at our church and still walk with ease. Within an hour, however, pain intensified from my hip down and I've struggled with it all week. My muscles haven't caught up with my nerves yet. And I'm not sure they can.

It could be the mom stress that comes from wanting to make your child better and not being able to. I have so much to be thankful for when it comes to Sam and his health that it frustrates me when I get bogged down by what I can't make right.  I made homemade trail mix last night and cooked something I didn't even know existed: Quinoa.  Why I fixate on shoes that don't support his ankles after grocery shopping and cooking healthier than ever just last night, even I can't figure out today.

Since I have no answers, I'll close buy a sharing a link to a website that's meant a lot to me lately: iamsecond.com. God is first. I am second.  And in that place of surrender,  where we lean not on our own understanding, the peace that passes understanding guards our hearts and gives us what we need for the next hour, the next day, and all the days to come.

And if you have time, watch this video by Scott Hamilton.  One more story. Another transformed life.  A testament to that peace.

Seconds - I Am Second

Now... time to head for the high school state meet.