The Significance of Butterflies

This morning I was feeling weighted down with worries and uncertainties.  It is hard to watch people you love go through hard things, and there seems to be a lot of that going around.   

I didn't really feel like going for a walk, but once I pulled myself out of bed and Gary suggested we go, I figured I should.  As we were walking and observing the demolition of the old Edgemont Elementary, a very large monarch butterfly kept circling us.   I was a little annoyed and said, "What is that butterfly doing?"

Then I remembered, and realized, that perhaps I was being sent a little message of inspiration.

What came to mind was an experience I had while we were "Wilderness Youth Conference" leaders about 30 years ago.  I knew I had written my experience down and was looking through some journals, but then remembered that I had blogged about it at one time.  I searched the blog and found this entry from July of 2010:

"Anyone who knows me knows that I'm not a camper.  I like the comforts of home and do not seek out challenging outdoor activities.  So when we were called in by the Stake President and asked if we would be group leaders to 10 girls and boys, I was honestly filled with much trepidation.  The more I read up on what we were to do, the more anxiety I felt. 

These were things like:  Meeting the youth, who we didn't know, at 9:30 at night and then leading them on a 5 mile night hike to our campground.  Having only one orange to share for breakfast.  Doing activities like "fireman's net"  and other various obstacle courses and games all day, and then preparing our first meal in the evening.  Those things might not invoke fear in some people, but it certainly did in me.

The week before the youth conference, we had a training day.  On that training day we made the 5 mile hike, and I honestly thought I would die.  I remember standing on the trail in the baking sun wondering if a helicopter would be able to come and get me.  After that training day and during the following week, my anxiety was even worse.  I wanted to call and bow out.  How could I lead the youth when I couldn't be a good leader?  But, I've always believed, and followed my belief, that if I am called to do something that I will do my best and that I will be blessed the rest of the way.   I was blessed. 

The night of the hike, it was like my feet hardly touched the ground.  In fact, at the end of the conference each of us wrote something nice about everyone in the group.  One of the comments made to me was "she is a good hiker."  Ha!  Little did they know.

So, this story is a very long set-up as to why the butterfly has significance to me. 

The last activity of youth conference was to have everyone go off alone for a half hour.   We were to ask God a question and listen for an answer.  That was also somewhat of a new experience for me.  While I often ask God questions, I seldom have the patience to stay still, meditate, and wait for an answer. 

My question was, 'Why does there have to be such sorrow and pain in the world?  Why do some people have to go through so much?'  That was very much on my mind at the time, particularly because of my nephew and niece, Chuck and Christine, who lived with such excruciating pain with EB.   

As I sat in silence in the mountains, a beautiful butterfly flew right in front of me.  As I watched it fly away, my heart lifted and I felt such peace.  What came into my mind was the thought that "without sorrow or pain we would not recognize or appreciate the opposite, which is joy and love and goodness."    I knew that my question had been heard and that I had been given a greater understanding.  The whole wilderness experience, from beginning to end, was one of the hardest and one of the most faith promoting of my life.

Later, when I shared that experience with Lynn (Chuck and Christine's mom), she asked me if I knew that the symbol for EB (Epiderolysis Bullosa) is the butterfly (They have skin as fragile as a butterfly wing which can blister at the slightest touch).    I had never known that, and hearing it gave me an even greater appreciation for my experience on the mountain."   (End of previous blog post)


So, when the butterfly was working so hard to be noticed, I did get the message.  My heart has felt lighter.

And, symbolically, the change (or metamorphosis) of the old Edgemont School being replaced by the new beautiful one, was not lost on me either.