Where Do Butterflies Go When It Rains?

For seven days it has rained without stopping. But the morning started out dry and I looked out my window to see blooms waking up everywhere. I pulled on my boots and waded through my drenched garden, uncovering some garlic chives trying desperately to bloom underneath the goldenrod. To both of our surprise, out fluttered a yellow butterfly (Clouded Sulpher). I suppose I woke him up and it made me wonder “Where do butterflies go when it rains?” Since this morning, the sun has finally broken through the clouds and butterflies are everywhere – Black Swallowtails, Tiger Swallowtails, and oh, there’s a Gulf Fritillary – the small orange spotted ones – and more of the yellow Clouded Sulphers.

For a butterfly whose lifespan is short, seven days of rain takes away about half of their lifetime as they take shelter and hide under larger leaves or any protective garden material until the rains subside. And if the rain is pounding as it has been in Atlanta this summer, sometimes their wings get torn and they die an untimely death. I am relieved to see that the butterflies are alive and well after seven days. In fact, I am envious of their playful nature, hanging lazily upside down, flying free in the dry, warm air, putting on a show for me sitting here at my desk.

Where do we go when it rains? Usually, we just plod through with an umbrella or a jacket. But the rains in Atlanta have pelted our homes and gardens, creeped into our basements, swept away bridges and toppled trees and in doing so taken our power. Then what do we do? We get to work, call repairmen and we wait. We gather our candles and flashlights and for a little while it is quaint and inviting – the quiet that is - but we soon become impatient for life to resume some sense of normalcy.

In giving a short devotional at a meeting, I really wanted to begin by saying, “Into every life a little rain must fall” trying to make a joke about our continuous rain, but I knew that it would be interpreted in a way where people would feel sorry for me and that might make us all cry. So I chose something safer to say. But I find lessons in those butterflies. Oh, how we want to live life to the fullest. Oh, how we want to “hang upside down” and fly through life with only sunshine. Maybe we tolerate a shower or two, but certainly none of us welcome the rains that destroy and displace.

One thing is for sure, we cannot predict the weather. Oh, Dr. Feelgood thinks he can. He watches weather patterns like he watches stock charts and can tell you two weeks out what you might expect “in your part of the country” as Al Roker would say. We cannot predict the rainfall for our lives, nor would any of us want to know the forecast. But we can plan for rainy days, do everything we can to protect and provide, and then armed we can seek shelter from the storm. How? Well, sometimes we hide like the butterflies – hopefully not under rocks or leaves, but behind masks of self-preservation and a simple will to survive. But healthier ways are to seek shelter with our family and friends. We find comfort in being with our church family. We find strength in personal study of scriptures like “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you” Isaiah 43:2.
It’s been dark and gloomy for a solid week. I’ve hidden myself a little. But the sun is out. The butterflies are tapping on my window. I think I might go outside.

From Paris to Rome and A Few Stops In Between

It was an ambitious itinerary, planned with enthusiasm and love – sort of a pilgrimage to remember Megan at this first anniversary. We would fly to Paris and drive to Rome, seeing as much as we could see. And now we have returned from that journey, weary from the 10 hour flight and a lost but found bag, but filled with new perspectives on the world in which we live. It was a trip of a lifetime.

In Paris we arrived an hour ahead of schedule and decided to take the train into the city. We immediately got ourselves separated at the train station, giving us an opportunity to test our phones which fortunately worked. There is nothing better than stepping off a train in a foreign city and seeing two people you know and love right there waiting for you. Our rooms were ready and we regrouped for an evening at the Louvre. We smiled back at the Mona Lisa and studied the Winged Victory from every angle of light. Later, we walked all the way to the Arch Triomphe, admiring the view of the city from the top. Saturday was bright and chilly as we walked across Pont Neuf to visit La Sainte-Chapelle and light candles in Notre Dame and then meander through the streets of St. Germain du Prix, enjoying coffee and way too many croissants. We spent the afternoon visiting the Eifel Tower – a favorite picture of mine is the photo Owen took of himself with the tower rising out of his head - and the Musee D’Orsay, returning to the charming Left Bank for dinner and to watch the full moon come up over the river Seine.
Midday on Sunday we picked up our reserved rental car (well, it wasn’t quite that easy) and headed three hours south to Burgundy. Our hotel, Hotel du Clos was charming and we visited the Chateau Pommard winery, had a fabulous tour of the largest private vineyard in Burgundy. Had we stayed a few days we possibly could have helped with the harvest as the vines were heavy with lush, sweet grapes. We tasted grapes of 500 year old vines which we were told distinguish the best of the pinot noir grape and sent a few bottles home for special occasions.

Monday, we left the rolling vineyards and headed to the Alps. It was the Mont Blanc we were in search of, rising above the fun energetic town of Chamonix. Our hotel was in the middle of town at the base of the high-speed lift that would take us to the"Aiguille du Midi" which translates "needle of midday" and is called this as the sun sits directly over the peak at noon when viewed from the town. We could look out and up – way up – and see it. Better yet, we could walk ten-minutes to the lift and be transported to 14,000 feet of spectacular vistas of snow-capped Alps.

What goes up must come down and Tuesday seemed to be the day of tunnels, coming out of the Alps and into the Piedmont region of Italy. We saw beautiful castles when we weren’t underground, and the road through Genoa was fast-paced to say the least. We enjoyed seeing the Mediterranean Sea at a distance, but by the afternoon had woven our way to the town of Monterossa, arriving at the Cinque Terre, the charming collection of five villages by the sea. While the driving and navigating was probably great sport for the guys in the front, I can speak for the girls in the back that too many curves spoil the view. Now, we purposely did not make a reservation and discovered that it was a church festival day with every room booked. As luck would have it, we asked a second time and finally found one room with four beds in a hostel-like setting. Quite fine, except for the train that shook our beds every hour. At dinner over anchovy pizzas, we met three young American women who became our new friends. One was related to a classmate of Megan’s – it is a small world. The next morning we took the train to the last village and worked our way back, stopping and experiencing the uniqueness of each little village.

There were just as many curves leaving Cinque Terre, but finally we were on our way to Florence, or so we thought. They say all roads lead to Rome, but that doesn’t hold true for Florence. We seemed to get further south faster than we intended, ending up in Siena which was way too crowded, but offered us the tremendous basilica – one of Mike’s favorites. He can tell you many of the floor’s mosaic stories. From there we meandered on to the beautiful Tuscan hill town of San Gimignano – the medieval town of fourteen towers (there were 60). We stayed at a hotel inside the walled town and as the tourists left, we blended in with the locals, enjoying a dinner on the piazza with a violin concert to entertain us, weighing the pros and cons of backtracking to Florence.

Still debating, we decided Florence would just have to wait for another time. How many duomos can one visit anyway? We stayed in Assisi Thursday night and Friday morning wisely hired a friendly and knowledgeable guide who showed us the town and cathedrals in two hours. She told the story of St. Francis in a most enjoyable and understandable way. What a surprise to visit the tremendous Basilicas of St. Francesco and St. Claire in beautiful Umbria (pronounced OOM bria).

We left Assisi, enjoying beautiful Italian countryside all the way into Rome. Returning the rental car to the airport was a bit of a challenge but once we found Hertz, we were whisked to our hotel by a taxi driver who could not only cross three lanes of traffic in a split second, but also talk on two cell phones and point out places of interest to us – all at the same time! I had not appreciated the driving of Dr. Feelgood until this point in the trip.

This is the first year the Vatican Museum has opened on Friday nights and we had reservations for a guided tour. We got more than we paid for. Our guide had to have been an Art History professor and she was as animated as she was informative, leading us through the Vatican Museum which is room after room of sculptor, tapestries, and work of the great Masters, ending in the beautifully restored Sistine Chapel. I think we all left a little dazed and speechless. Raphael will leave you breathless.

Saturday, we saw just some of the many sights of Rome, including the spectacular St. Peter’s Square and Basilica. Blair was impressed that about the same number of people can fit into the square and basilica as can fit into Bryant-Denny Stadium at Alabama. It too seemed to be at sell-out capacity, maybe because the Pope was there. It’s hard to believe that just a tad smaller was the ancient Colisseum we visited on Sunday. It felt strange, visiting on Sunday, knowing that if I had been a Christian then I could have easily been executed here by the crazed emperor Nero. Worship doesn’t always come easy. We meandered through the Forum, wondering at the remains of what was once a thriving civilization. As I viewed what was left, I mentally tried to fit all that I had seen into my little brain which by now felt like a melting gelato. The Roman Empire spanned the time period between about 145 B.C. and 400 A.D. And there we were, looking at what was left of the most extensive and powerful empire in the world – in ruins. And yet, from Paris to Rome, we had witnessed another power - the story of Christ - the one the Roman soldiers put to death - from basilica to basilica, from painting to painting, sculpture to sculpture, all interpreted consistently and maintained beautifully for the world to see and discover. I could not help feeling overwhelmed at God’s plan for mankind – and that I had a small place in all of it.

Surprised by Possibilities

There is life outside my window. The blue asters have taken over the perennial bed. The goldenrod is blooming and the hostas and crepe myrtles are taking their last bow for the summer. The butterflies lazily float by my window followed by the busy hummingbird that is here and gone in a blink.

It’s like this year – gone in a blink. I thought the year would be a long one and it has in many ways. But now that September 12 is around the corner, there is part of me that does not want to cross the anniversary of my child’s death. There is part of me that does not want to let go of Megan, but to stay in this one-year allowed time of grieving. We had no appetite at Thanksgiving but survived and escaped for Christmas. We entered the New Year with great loss but with hope to survive. We received the gift of five white doves over our heads on Good Friday. We have rested and remembered so much as the summer months have slipped by, providing many thoughts and memories of life and death and the mystery of it all.

There will be some part of me down deep that will always scream “NO!” to the reality of my loss. There will be some part of me that will always want life to be the way it was before 2007. There will be some part of me that cannot let go completely. And based on what I have read and learned, that may not be the healthy way to move forward. I think at some point I am supposed to say good-bye to Megan. I am supposed to close the door and move to some new spot. I am supposed to find new meaning and purpose, discover new possibilities, and love with new tenderness and depth.

This website has been my helpful, working friend now for two years. I have sat with it and wrestled out my thoughts and feelings. It has seen all my deleted words, pointed out confusing phrases and unnecessary adjectives. It has offered solace while I sat and cried and helped me to heal in ways in which I probably am not aware. It has given me a nod of approval when my words pointed away from my self-pity and to a greater source. It has been with me since June of 2007 and to date the two of us have posted 100 entries. It is hard to tell a friend good-bye, but the time has come for me to close this door and move to some new spot to write.

While I wait and work to find a publisher for a book, my website is “under construction” and I am blogging. What a strange word – blogging. Some of you have found me and I hope all of you will go with me. If you are new to blogs (that makes two of us), go to marciabgaddis.blogspot.com and it will pop up. The name of it is The Olive Branch which you can also Google and some of the articles will show there. If you scroll down to the bottom or look to the side, there is a place to become a follower and maybe find a way to subscribe if you wish (I think all this is correct). Savvy, heh?

Don’t be surprised if you find me in some new places with some new things to write about – I’m off to work on discovering those new possibilities. One thing I have learned through this experience is that God surprises me and I am grateful. I leave you with a beautiful scripture written in Megan’s handwriting. I guess it is fitting that she signs us off:
“But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope. The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning…great is your faithfulness. “The Lord is my portion” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in Him”. The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, to the soul who seeks Him. Lamentations 3:21-15

Believe, Begin, Become…or …. Can You Take The Heat?

This morning I met with another writer who encouraged me along the path of my first title for today’s required writing – Believe, Begin, Become. Inspired to go home and write, my car turned right instead of left and without realizing it, I found myself in the garden center, among the hardy blooms of late summer, the ones who can take the heat – thus my second title that I could not resist. Somewhere between the two there is a relationship. Stay with me.

Let me back up and say I have been thinking so much about change as we approach the one-year anniversary of our daughter’s death. So much has changed for each of us individually and together as a family. We are changed forever and finding our way through that change. I am reminded in 1 Peter 5:6 that says to “Humble yourself, therefore under God’s almighty hand, that He may lift you up in due season.”

I cannot speak for everyone else affected by Megan’s death, but I have identified some of the ways that I have been changed.
I am forever changed in that I now believe the verse in scripture that says, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me”. I am not afraid of suffering – or whatever I might be called to do. I may like it one bit, and will never understand the “whys”, but I trust in the One who hears my complaint, knowing that he has a plan and a purpose for all things. I am more focused, more serious and more removed. I am a lot less fun to be around. Sorry.

I am forever changed because during Megan’s illness, God somehow – probably through the prayers or so many- provided me with words that comforted me and others. The words chronicled the journey, marked the time, and provided strength. I witnessed personal healing in myself and you as we watched her leave this life. I reread and the words still comfort me, they guide and direct me, and point me forward.

I am forever changed because though the journey was dark, there was always light. There was always something of beauty that would appear –a friend, a bird or a star, maybe a note, maybe the light in Megan’s eyes…there was a presence in our home that was felt and unexplainable, a sense of God close-up and real. I still feel it – and I seek it out on the dark days that will most likely show up now and then.

I am forever changed because in my grief I have been taken more closely to the cross of Christ with the realization that God never asked me to do more than what he did in giving up his own son Jesus on the cross. And on those days that are still dark in mystery, I go to Gethsemane and sit with Jesus, where Jesus pleaded with God, saying, “Could you just take this cup from me. Is there not some other way? Yet, it is not my will, but thy will be done.” I allow myself to be with Him and wonder in my heart “Did you have to take Megan? Couldn’t there have been some other way?” And I sit there and cry and give it up all over again and I am strengthened and restored. I go there often.

The words that were a gift during my crisis continue to come forth and give me strength and hope for something out there, beyond where I can see. I am told it is a book, a story that will help others and encourage them when they walk through a valley. The billboard that caught my eye shouted it out “BELIEVE! BEGIN! BECOME!” I thought how nice it would be if it was that simple. It reminded me of a quote Dr. Feelgood shared with me by Napoleon Hill, one of America’s first motivational authors who wrote “Think and Grow Rich”. Hill said “What the mind of man can conceive and believe, it can achieve."

I wonder where I am in that collection of action verbs. After writing weekly for two years, I do believe more and more in myself as a writer. Confidence is a wonderful thing, something that has not come easy for me in life and now at a very high price. Maybe it is my pain that gives me something to say. Time will tell.

Writing is one thing, but beginning the process of publishing is the start of a brand new career – and I am not exactly fresh out of college! I reminded Dr. Feelgood that it is like him deciding to become a plumber after being a stock broker for 30 plus years. But I have begun and that is the first step. And I am encouraged in my effort even though it is slow and laborious and I must discipline myself like never before (it is why I am no longer fun).

Somewhere in the process, I believe we start to become (like the Velveteen Rabbit). For me I have learned much of what I know from creation which brings back me to the random garden center visit. The flowers in my window boxes have bloomed as much as they can and are exhausted from the heat. It is time for a change (believe). I pulled everything out and replaced (begin) with late bloomers that can take the heat – Blue Daze, Gazania, and Marigolds. Oh, they look a little shocked right now, being thrown into a new environment suddenly, but if I nurture them along, they will grow and bloom (become) until the next season of growth.

Maybe I, too, can be a late bloomer.

Today - Don't Miss Today!

August 5, 2009

“This is the day that the Lord hath made. We will rejoice and be glad in it.”

I thought I might wake this morning to an onslaught of tears, nostalgically thinking of Megan on her 28th birthday, missing her presence here and the opportunity to make her something special for her birthday dinner. But the tears have not appeared. Something keeps me thinking of the gift of eternal life she has been given. And something keeps me seeing her laughing. It’s like a mental vision today of all the beauty and love she possessed and shared with so many of us. It’s a birthday gift for sure from her and I plan to enjoy it throughout the day. And tonight we will make her favorite, Shrimp and Grits, and sing Happy Birthday to her in Heaven.

I did open her journal just to see what was on her mind in August of 2006 which now seems so long ago. She was thinking a lot about vision for her life and working on personal and financial goals as a young, single woman. She wrote:
“Lord, you have been guiding me in my prayer life as I study about life goals and vision. I don’t know where I will be in one year, but Lord I do know that I want to live confidently in your love – trusting your faithfulness and seeking you every day. God, I don’t know what your plans are for me – just your promises which are always enough. Sarah (in the Bible) waited a very long time. You have not promised me marriage, a family, a home, or even tomorrow but Lord, I trust that you have some plan for me, and God, as I wait daily for that plan to unfold, help me to see that TODAY is part of the great plan you have for me – help me not to miss TODAY!”

I am encouraged by those words to not miss today. It’s easy to stay in the past or mourn the future, but life is for living and there is much to do today. It could be the last day we have. Then again we might have two more years like Megan did. We just don’t know. And we don’t know the impact our lives will have on others as we live out the rest of our todays.

Megan wrote a little later in her journal:
“…thinking a lot about what I want my life to look like 5,10, 50 years from now – listened to part of Andy Stanley’s series on Discovering God’s Will…he said when you have a vision for your life and seek God’s will, the options are fewer and the decisions get much easier and clearer to make.”

I suppose we revisit our visions for our lives as life moves us through many passages. Like our friends who have just held their first grandchild – visions of future and hope for this new life; like our young friends who married this past weekend and we danced the night away in celebration; like a drive across the country to start a new life; like the start of college and first grade; like new jobs and new friends; like the three-year-old who is fighting cancer with good spirits; like planning a pilgrimage of sorts to find healing and hope; like writing almost 100 missives to communicate love and gratitude for today as we all live out our todays. In each example, life becomes simpler, options fewer, and decisions easier. Today is part of God’s great plan for each of us. Don’t miss TODAY!

20A - Zone 4

August 5, 2009
While riding the train to the airport, I noticed him. His head was covered with his sweater and he looked like he had been sleeping there for some time. Unlike me, boarding pass in hand, I doubted he had a plane to catch. Maybe the train was home. I have read about people who will ride all day just to have a safe and cool place to sleep. It gets them through the day. I admit the gentle rocking of the rail line and the steady hum of the motor is soothing – and supporting public transportation, I like to think it is safe.

I keep thinking about the sweater-covered rider. It is a mental picture of me on many days - wanting to shut out the world, board a train with no destination, blocking the light of day. Thank God, I haven’t resorted to train sleeping. But maybe we all do in our own creative and struggling ways. Being homeless doesn't always look like the tired man on the train. Homeless can be all cleaned up with designer clothes on; homeless can be a state of wanderlust, riding trains to nowhere, not caring about the final destination. Homeless can be a state of busy-ness – filling up hours with meaningless activity. Homeless can be a heart that can't feel, cry, or connect. Homeless can be a choice in one’s state of mind. The choices are many –fill in the blank with victim, entitlement, denial, lethargy, pride, ego, and on and on. When you are homeless, you have been convinced by an unworthy source you have no where to go. As Dr. Feelgood reminds our family “If you don’t know where you are going, any road will take you there”.

In trying to save some money, New York is offering one way tickets to homeless people who have a family member in another city who will take them in. They must have their destination confirmed before they will issue the ticket. It sounds like a compassionate plan, doesn’t it? I wonder how it will work when the person actually shows up on their welcome mat with a sweater over his head and a hungry stomach.

As Christians we have that family member, our father in heaven, who has given us a boarding pass to Heaven - because we trust in Him. He welcomes all of us just as we are with all of our baggage. It’s been His plan throughout time.

I am saddened to think some will ride the train of life daily until death and not have a ticket for a better destination when this life stops. Some think they can just stay on the train, ride as long as they can through life, print their own boarding pass with little thought to the train stopping.

And it will stop. As we approached the airport, the conductor announced that all passengers must get off the train at the end of the line. As I gathered my things, I looked through the crowd of people, hoping to get one more glimpse of my inspiration. He had gotten off somewhere along the way – gone from my view, but not my heart and somehow I knew he had his boarding pass. One day he won’t be homeless.

Win- Win

July 24, 2009

I have been at my desk, tending to work, missing nature and my garden. But I open the window and there it all is –order, blue sky, breeze in the air, birds singing, and the sweet smell of the hostas just starting to bloom. I had nothing to do with any of it and I am grateful.

A devotional this morning reminded me that God has gone to great measures to preserve our freedom of choice and that a spirit of thankfulness to Him in all circumstances is a way to know God personally. Job asked the question, “Can I be only grateful to God in the good things in my life?” If God is with us in our darkest moments – and I know He is – then is he not a God that goes before us on our good days? The breeze blowing in on my shoulder is an affirming “yes”.

Somehow when things are running along smoothly, with many good choices around us, we tend to take all the credit. We become confident in our contacts, our degrees, our reputation, our accomplishments, our possessions. We forget to thank God in the good times. We forget to spend time with him. Then when the tough times come, it is even harder to turn to God, much less be grateful that He is still by our side and we become angry and blame him for our misfortunes. Satan must really enjoy this scenario – ignore God when I am strong, blame God when I am weak – it’s a win/win for Satan because we have chosen self as our own little god. What would happen if we trusted and thanked God for our good days, and trusted and thanked God for our bad days? I think God is brilliant in giving us a choice. It’s a win/win for him. No matter what we do or where we live, we have a God who goes before us and as the book said “gone to great measures to preserve our freedom of choice”.

If we seek to develop a spirit of thankfulness, we put someone above ourselves. We step aside and let another guide us. We are humbled for the help or guidance we receive. We trust it and give thanks for it. We live it out. We are reminded that if it wasn’t for God, we would not be this created human being with an ability to choose.

When Job had it out with God, God allowed him to have his say and then fired a series of questions at Job that no one on earth could possibly answer. Questions like: Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation? Have you ever given orders for the morning? Have you journeyed to the springs of the sea or seen the gates of death? By the time God finishes questioning him, Job gives up and says he will be quiet. But God is not quite finished and continues this line of questioning. Finally Job understands his very small place in the world and confesses to God that he spoke of things to wonderful for him to know. Read Job 38-42 and you will be in tears, humbled by your smallness. You will look out your window and feel the breeze and marvel that you even have the privilege to live in the world of this creator.

How could we choose anything but to be thankful? How could we choose anything but to seek His face every day in all that we do, wherever we are, whatever task is before us?
When a special friend was heading off to college, I wrote and reminded her to think often of the verse in Isaiah 30:21 that says, “Whether you turn to the left or the right, your ears will hear a voice behind you saying, “This is the way, walk in it”. And if we choose to follow God, it is the win/win of all time, all eternity.