The Story of the Butterfly
A man found a cocoon of a butterfly. One day a small opening appeared. He sat and watched the butterfly for several hours as it struggled to force its body through that little hole.
Then it seemed to stop making any progress. It appeared as if it had gotten as far as it could,and it could go no further.
So to help the butterfly he took a pair of scissors and snipped off the remaining bit of the cocoon.
The butterfly then emerged easily. But it had a swollen body and small, shriveled wings.
The man continued to watch the butterfly
because he expected that, at any moment, the wings would enlarge and expand to be able to support the body, which would contract in time.
Neither happened! In fact, the butterfly spent the rest of its life crawling around with a swollen body and shriveled wings.
It never was able to fly.
What the man, in his kindness and haste, did not understand was that the restricting cocoon and the struggle required for the butterfly to
get through the tiny opening were God’s way of forcing fluid from the body of the butterfly into its wings so that it would be ready for flight once it achieved its freedom from the cocoon.
Sometimes struggles are exactly what we need in our lives. If God allowed us to go through our lives without any obstacles, it would cripple us. We would not be as strong as what we could have been. We could never fly!
Remember…what we struggle with makes us strong!
Lessons in Putting on a Shoe
Kids are hysterical and so literal. Today, I was attempting to help PigPen (age 4.5) properly put on his shoes. Of course, there is the left foot, right foot discussion. Lately however, he has been a little lazy in putting on his shoes. He tries to stuff his feet into a shoe that is already tied. With this comes frustration and tears because the foot just won’t be jammed into the narrow shoe.
But he’s 4. And with that comes a certain stubbornness. It’s his way or I lose my eardrums. I lean over, insert his foot into the tied shoe, and patiently instruct him to hold the tongue so that it won’t slip down. “Hold the tongue,” I repeat. Exasperated, I look up to find him doing just as I asked … more or less. Holding HIS tongue!
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