How a butterfly "lifted" a 300-pound man

THE DAY OF THE BUTTERFLY

I am grateful butterflies don't sting, buzz or do other annoying things. If they did I probably would have missed out on one of God's "tender mercies." That is what I call those gentle, tiny moments God sprinkles into our lives in seemly capricious fashion that give us new insights, or renew our spirit for living.
It happened several years ago when I was taking my daily walk. I use my walk time not only for exercise but as a time to pray, wrestle with life's confrontations, and talk to God.
On the day of the butterfly I was agitated about my health. I was complaining to God about my struggle with obesity and my severe sleep apnea. Serenity was hardly my walking partner. At least that is how it was until I was on my way back home, after walking about a mile.
Then I glimpsed something white on my right shoulder. It was almost as if I sensed it at first rather than saw it. One of those instances when you think you see something out of the corner of your eye, but doubt it, only to be surprised when you really look you and find that there is actually something there.
When I looked, there perched on my shoulder was a white-winged butterfly. Its wings had a random pattern of little black specks. Its body, head and antennae were shinny black.
The butterfly's black body and white wings contrasted with my green T-shirt. I was astonished to find it there, and had no doubt that it would instantly fly away just as silently as it had landed. But it didn't. It sat on my shoulder, bold as a butterfly can be, slowly moving its wings but exhibiting no intention of soon flying away.
The butterfly on my shoulder fascinated me. Where had it come from, and why had it landed on me? I had walked many dozens of times over that route and had seen few butterflies. None had even come close to me, let alone landed on me. But this one was different, and I didn't want it to leave.
It didn't. It was content to just hang-on and ride on my shoulder. Every minute or so I glanced at my shoulder to see if it was still there. It acted as if it belonged on my shoulder. Perhaps it wanted to be carried for a while so it could have a chance to rest its wings. Perhaps it needed a ride to help relieve its weariness. It was as if it had been flying a long time, had a long way yet to go, and was a bit depleted. It was a perfect opportunity for it to take a breather and hitch a ride. At the same time, it seemed confident it was safe with me, and wouldn't be harmed.
The butterfly rode on my shoulder for about 15-minutes. When I got home I had to share the strange event with my wife, Donna. I wanted her to see my unusual traveling companion.
I knew the butterfly couldn't stay on my shoulder indefinitely, and it was time for her to fly on. Standing in our front yard I lifted my left hand to my right shoulder, where the butterfly rested, and gently brushed under its head, nudging it to flight.
The fragile little creature flew from my shoulder, dancing in the air as butterflies do. It flew a zig-zag course around the yard for a few moments as if getting her bearings on some destination known only to her. She propelled herself higher than the trees, fluttering over them. Then she was gone.
It was strange, yet pleasant to have had the butterfly land on my shoulder. The heaviness of my black mood about my weight and chronic illness had been lifted by the lightness of that butterfly. It needed to rest and I needed the spark of joy it brought to me. Riding on my shoulder it was revitalized, and oddly, so was I. It was as if the burden of my depression was carried off when the butterfly took flight. And because she rode on my shoulder, each of us was able to continue our life-journeys with energy renewed.
In those few moments God blessed, and helped, two of his creatures.