I love dreams. I am not sure if this is something that I am going to grow out of or not, but at this point I can see myself waking up each morning as an old woman still pondering what I had dreamt about the night before. I also feel as though I can learn a lot from my dreams- whether they be from my subconscious or from God.
This story starts with a dream. It was pretty simple: A bluish-purple butterfly came and landed on my nose and fluttered its wings, giving me a butterfly kiss. And while this was happening, God told me in the dream that I was His butterfly.
I wouldn’t say I was ever the type of person to dream about rainbows or butterflies, but that is actually why this dream stuck out to me a little more. In fact, I have always thought butterflies to be little fragile creatures that are easily broken. And to be even more brutally honest, I thought this dream was a bit childish. A butterfly, really? Couldn’t I have dreamt that God had called me His epic warrior daughter or something? (With 3 older brothers in the military, you wouldn’t expect any less out of me)
But… no. That was not what my God had called me in the dream. He called me His butterfly.
Ever since that day, I have been much more aware of the butterflies around me- some black and yellow, others brown and white, some red-orange. I hadn’t noticed them before. Its strange what beauty you will see when you open your eyes. Beauty is surrounding us and we can often look past it.
I’ve noticed that as I am carrying water every day, I am usually looking down at my feet, being careful of where I am stepping. The other day as I was carrying water, I looked up. It shocked me. When we arrived here in Malawi, the land was so bare. We have had a few storms since then, and this has led to little green plants pushing their way to the soil’s surface. When I looked up from my feet the other day, I couldn’t believe how much the plants had grown in such a short amount of time. It was absolutely beautiful.
It has been the same with the butterflies. Even as I am writing this, a few butterflies have fluttered past me. I hadn’t even noticed the beauty that butterflies actually bring. I didn’t see before how much joy people get when they see a butterfly. I began to marvel the complete transformation the caterpillar has to go through before its colorful wings appear. I even started to think about how monarch butterflies are little troopers and fly from Mexico making their journey to the United States. Everything has its own beauty; you just have to open your eyes to see it.
A girl on my team told me a few days ago that she felt as though she had received a word from God for me. She told me the word she got was ‘butterfly’. These past months in Africa have been molding me into something different, something new. God has used me in ways that I have never been used before and I know that there is still so much more to come. There are an incredible amount of stories to bring back home that testify to God’s grace. And I know that I have changed and will not be coming home the same woman.
I feel strange writing this… but I am beginning to believe it. I am beginning to believe that it is okay to be a butterfly. And not just any butterfly, but I am God’s butterfly.
