Butterfly Chronicles Volume 81: Once Upon a Time

November 2, 2013

Dear Zachery,

781 days
2 years, 1 month, and 20 days
111 weeks and 4 days
18,744 hours
1,124,640 minutes
781 days

Zach, I believe you know I drip with butterflies.  People say to me - you really like butterflies.  No, I say.  God likes butterflies.  I tell people about you, about your suicide,  about the butterflies.  I name God as my butterfly bringer. I tell them the butterfly represents the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.  With some, I talk more. With others, I move on.

I prayed for this - for God to give me the words to speak about Jesus in an uncomplicated and simple way.  God works.  He sends me butterflies. He's given me words to tell the story.

If God had said I will answer your prayer and give you Gospel words to speak but only if you let me have your son who will die by his own hand, I would've sowed my lips together.  I'm not brave or strong.

God works.  I didn't have a choice about you or the butterflies. I think about what it all means, Zach - God's purpose in allowing you to pull the trigger. What picture is God weaving in this tapestry I don't see or understand?  I think about how I am a word person.  Imagine, Zach...what if someone is saved because God sends the butterflies and a person hears the words God has given me to tell about your story, our story, the butterfly story? Will that be enough - to know a person is saved?  For me, I can't say knowing a person gets saved because of your death is enough.

I'm sad. A lot.

Butterflies for 781 days and counting.

Zach, I will never, ever be the same.  I'm crazier now than ever before. My failings can never outpace God's grace, right?  This must be true, or why would He keep waking me up?  Maybe crazier is right where He needed me to be to fill me with Gospel words. He has a plan. I don't have a right to understand. Zach, I just don't want to miss the purpose of all this.

I don't sleep.  I'm tired.  I panic in the dark.  What is the purpose?

Come for a visit soon, son.  I've been praying to see you again.  Tell me about your crowns and your jobs and your best God stories and your best life.  Hug me again, so I feel your life.

I miss you.  Go before the throne of grace, will you?

 Tell God I'm asking for the privilege of understanding something about the reason and purpose in all this darkness.

I know you are basking in the Savior's light and dining at His table.  Eat. Drink deeply! Be merry.  You will never die.

I love you.
I miss you.

Mommy