Butterfly Chronicles: Volume 10 – A Spring Day in Winter

13 weeks 6 days

I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in
Christ Jesus our Lord.

My dad emailed me an article which I opened this morning about Tony Dungy. It helped. Alot - both Michael and me.

http://sports.espn.go.com/nfl/feature/featureVideo?page=amazinggrace

He lost a son to the same monster that grabbed ours. Whatever the monster’s name, it seems none of us who have been through this can pinpoint a reason or answer the question why, but the monster lurks and devours and prowls like that roaring lion in scripture. And for as long as it takes, we will ask why while knowing there is no answer.

Coming though – a time when we no longer seek the why because the answer died with our boy and we can rest – at least that is the story I am told by those who’ve gone before us.

Lucidity today. Gently rocking peace waves, thoughts of planning, teaching, doing, living, calmer breathing. A fleeting release from grief’s straight jacket.

A bench enveloped by sunshine arms shared with Madison, slower living, a treasure time, gifts of butterflies from her magazine.

Giggles with Taylor, funny voices, a “counselor” song chanted to and from, talk of graduation, weddings, friends, thankfulness.

Michael’s caressing word whispers, “One step at a time. One step at a time. We will make it through this.” Always patient, always kind.

Grief, a traitorous villain, will steal in again spreading itself over the sunshine and covering those unexpected good moments like a death shroud, stealing hours and days, the door closed tightly against the light.

But that sun, those thoughts of accomplishment and planning in future tense, passion in the present coming someday…the hope grows, budding from frozen ground, green sprouts struggling from icy grave reaching bravely toward life – escaping grave for blossom.

Lord, the hope is growing, the peace surpassing the dark and feeling the sunrise of life anew. Slowly…and I document this good day to breathe in and savor this spring to survive those days so dark.

Hold Zachery in your sun and thank you for those good minutes and hours and promises and butterflies. I still need them.

And you know.