Missing the butterflies

Morning, God.

It's a beautiful morning. One of those Autumn mornings that's alright by me, by the way. The sky is a cloudless blue, the sun is shining and lighting up the reds and oranges until they glow, and it's cold enough to see your breath. Crisp and clear and cold. That's a good Autumn day. Much better than the dank and dreary damp ones that make me feel depressed. Just saying.

This morning me and my two girls snuggled on my bed and watched the sun come up. It was golden and red and orange and yellow. On the way to school Elizabeth and I saw a snail on a leaf, we saw a spider's web with dew lit by the sun, and we saw small purple flowers growing from a crack in a brick wall. Katy, resplendent today in Batman Tshirt, bounced into her classroom and announced, 'Awesome! It's PE!' and did her happy dance, to her teacher's amusement. I am just filled with admiration that a daughter of mine could rejoice at the realisation that the first lesson of the day was exercise.

I'm learning how important it is to notice the little things. The light on the appletrees. The sound of birdsong in the early morning. A small girl's dimples of delight in a Batman Tshirt. I'm learning that you're teaching me to find you in the small things. How could I see you in the big things if I routinely walk past you when you're showing me the small? Even the seemingly insignificant has your signature. The last roses. Withered tomato plants bearing the last ripening fruit. 

Lord, I'm needing to see you. I'm looking out of the window on this glorious day and still feeling out of touch. I see you everywhere but I don't feel you. There's something inside of me missing today. It's very very beautiful and all is right in my world and yet I feel heavy and weighed down.

We haven't talked much lately, have we? It's only been a day or three with only a passing word between us but it doesn't take long for me to feel disconnected. I need to hang on tight, but how quickly I loosen my grip.  A dozen excuses; I'm tired, I'm short of time, I feel this, or I don't feel that... and I turn away. I need to stop and sit with you. I have so many things to do. Good things; worthy things, but I need to stop. Stop.

A moment ago I saw a beautiful orange and yellow and black butterfly land on the wall outside the window. In my haste to try and take a photograph, I frightened it away before I got a good look. That's sort of symbolic I think. I'm trying so hard to get somewhere that I don't notice where I am. I my rush to capture the moment forever; to use it for something... I lost it.

Forever asking where you're leading me and when we'll get there and are we nearly there yet? - and completely miss where we actually are.

I'm grabbing my camera and trying to peer through the lens and missing the butterflies.

Right now.

Where you are.

Father there's so much that I want to do, so much that I want to achieve. I want to do more, do better, be better. I want to grow and change and I want to get where I'm going - or at least feel as if I'm making progress. I'm frustrated about being. I don't find it easy to stop because I don't want to. I want to move on. I know that your Plan is perfect and your timing is spot on and yet I feel like stamping and shouting and folding my arms with a scowl like Elizabeth does because you're not doing things my way. I know what I think my life should look like and I don't really understand why you're not agreeing with me. Aren't my plans good plans? I want to do so much for you.

Honestly.

But I can't offer you a single thing. There's nothing I can do for you that you need; there's nothing that you want from me. I think you're telling me that for now, I should just be. Concentrate on me and you and stop the hamster wheel thing, the running, running, trying, trying.  I'm quite sure that what you want me to be is more important than what you want me to do. It seems to me that I know this, but I keep forgetting.

Is that it?

I'm tired, Lord. Tired because I didn't get enough sleep last night and tired of feeling battered and bruised. Tired of trying to do the right thing and tired of the knot in my stomach when I get it wrong. Tired of being confused and tired of trying to work things out.

So here it is.

Lord, once again I'm dumping all this in front of you. You know all about my fears and my worries, and you know about my hopes and dreams because you planted them in my heart. I think that in your time you'll water them and make them grow, but I don't know for sure because I'm just me and you're God.

I'll trust you anyway.

Here are all the stress and anxiety and lurking unease that's weighing me down this morning. Things that I'm carrying round when I don't need to.  All the stuff that's making me feel down on a spectacular Autumn morning. You said you'd carry it for me and I'd like to take you up on that, please.

Thankyou for the sunrise and for my daughters who shared it with me for a brief few moments amid their squabble about who had used the last precious heart shaped sticker.

Thankyou for the snail and the flowers and the spider's web and the dew.

Thankyou for Katy's energy and her enthusiasm and her Batman superpowers.

Thankyou for her wonderful gentle young teacher who hardly seems old enough to be teaching my daughter but who has given her a delight in coming to school that makes my heart swell.

Thankyou for the reds and golds and oranges of the Autumn leaves and the blue sky and the sunshine and the apples on the trees.

And thankyou for the butterfly. I'm sorry I didn't take the time to stop and look.