Patience - Part 3
Last week I let the girls out the back door like normal and couldn't help but notice this giant butterfly on the screen. Its size and beauty drew me in, so I had to go get the camera. Surprisingly, it waited patiently for me to return.
Its color caught my attention first, and then I noticed that it had definitely been through the storms of life. If you'll notice on its right wing there is a small curl at the very bottom. The one on the left side is missing. I wonder if she caught it on something, or maybe it was ripped off by a predator. I can't begin to imagine what she must have been through in her tiny little life.
So I carefully opened the door again so I wouldn't scare her. I took a picture from a pretty safe distance away so she wouldn't flutter off. She just waited patiently while I got a little closer, took a picture and then got a little closer for another one. She endured my curiosity like a trooper and I was blessed with several precious pictures of her.
That's when God's Word breathed over me like that butterfly's soft little wings. This creature's patience was much stronger than my own. I know that I wouldn't have withstood someone staring and examining me the way I stood over this bug. The beautiful fruit of the Spirit called patience was staring right back at me, making me see a deficiency in my own heart.
There are days when I feel pestered and bothered, and on others I feel neglected and alone. My patience with other people and stressful situations wears thin so quickly, and for that I ask God's forgiveness. This gentle creature that God made for me to see that day had been through a crisis, but somehow she came out on the other side with patience and beauty. I want that sweet strength in my own life when I'm being poked and prodded by circumstances.
The one great difference between this butterfly and me is that I have the ability to make choices in my life. She didn't choose to be patient - she just was. I have to make the decision to practice patience while I'm enduring the storm. This is how I grow in my walk with God and develop the fruit of long-suffering.
I never saw her fly away because I went back to my routine, and I haven't seen her since. But what that beautiful blue butterfly taught me about patience will last much longer than our brief encounter.
Its color caught my attention first, and then I noticed that it had definitely been through the storms of life. If you'll notice on its right wing there is a small curl at the very bottom. The one on the left side is missing. I wonder if she caught it on something, or maybe it was ripped off by a predator. I can't begin to imagine what she must have been through in her tiny little life.
So I carefully opened the door again so I wouldn't scare her. I took a picture from a pretty safe distance away so she wouldn't flutter off. She just waited patiently while I got a little closer, took a picture and then got a little closer for another one. She endured my curiosity like a trooper and I was blessed with several precious pictures of her.
That's when God's Word breathed over me like that butterfly's soft little wings. This creature's patience was much stronger than my own. I know that I wouldn't have withstood someone staring and examining me the way I stood over this bug. The beautiful fruit of the Spirit called patience was staring right back at me, making me see a deficiency in my own heart.
There are days when I feel pestered and bothered, and on others I feel neglected and alone. My patience with other people and stressful situations wears thin so quickly, and for that I ask God's forgiveness. This gentle creature that God made for me to see that day had been through a crisis, but somehow she came out on the other side with patience and beauty. I want that sweet strength in my own life when I'm being poked and prodded by circumstances.
The one great difference between this butterfly and me is that I have the ability to make choices in my life. She didn't choose to be patient - she just was. I have to make the decision to practice patience while I'm enduring the storm. This is how I grow in my walk with God and develop the fruit of long-suffering.
I never saw her fly away because I went back to my routine, and I haven't seen her since. But what that beautiful blue butterfly taught me about patience will last much longer than our brief encounter.
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