“When, in heaven, you see these present days, you will rejoice and will want to see
as many of them as possible.” (Saint Faustina, Diary 1787).
The other morning while I was walking along the concrete path around the oval at the park where I often walk, I saw what looked like a big black bug on the floor some distance in front of me on the path…
With each step that I took, I got closer and closer to that black spot on the ground and as I approached it I wondered what it could possibly be. While I was still a little way away from it, I felt very sure that the black splodge on the floor was surely a bug and I found myself getting ready to squash it under my foot if I found – when I approached it – that it were something disgusting like a cockroach.
And then – right there – just as I was ready to put my foot directly over the little creature, I saw that it was not an ugly old cockroach, but was instead a very small and very colourful and very beautiful butterfly!
And it was really quite pretty when I stood there watching it... You see, the butterfly’s wings were not black at all – they were coloured, but that little butterfly only looked black to me from a distance, because being on the floor I could only see the wrong side of its wings from where I stood on the path… Butterflies after all belong on in the air and not on the floor and their beauty was not designed to be visible from the ground.
I have been reflecting on that butterfly and my perspective of it ever since that day because that little bug reminded me so clearly of the Will of God!
There is a beautiful poem that was written by an anonymous poet called “The Weaver” and it goes like this…
“My Life is but a weaving
between my Lord and me;
I cannot choose the colours
He worketh steadily.
Oft times He weaveth sorrow
And I, in foolish pride,
Forget He sees the upper,
And I the underside.
Not till the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly,
Shall God unroll the canvas
And explain the reason why.
The dark threads are as needful
In the Weaver's skilful hand,
as the threads of gold and silver
in the pattern He has planned.
He knows, He loves, He cares,
nothing this truth can dim.
He gives His very best to those
who leave the choice with Him.”
And as I think about the message of this pretty little poem and the beauty of the Weaver’s work, it occurs to me that the tapestry – like the butterfly that I saw that morning – are very good reminders for me to have trust in the Holy Will of God...
You see, from a distance – and my perspective – what I saw was not the beauty of the butterfly, just as in the poem, the beauty of the weaving was hidden from view. Instead – from where I stood – I saw a large black beetle, something disgusting that needed to be crushed.
And I have been reflecting on my misunderstanding of the image before my very eyes for some time… For just as a butterfly does not belong on the ground, neither do we human souls belong on the Earth for very long… We were made – after all as we are told in the Catechism of the Catholic Church – in the Image of God to Know Him to Love Him and to Serve Him and to be With Him Forever in Paradise when we are born to eternal life…
And so, while we sit here on Earth – below the Weaver’s loom, or above the little butterfly – our perspective of things is simply all wrong! For when we see suffering or sorrow that God allows us, we too often reject it as ugly – at least I do – and when we do that it is much the same as preparing to crush the little butterfly that was only resting for a moment on the ground.
For ALL things are moved to the GOOD – even when it is impossible for us to understand this as so from our perspective below the loom or above the butterfly… And that means, that I can take heart from the exchange between Saint Faustina and Christ during her dying days, which she recorded in her Diary 1787…
“When I met with the Lord, I said to Him, (135) ‘You are fooling me, Jesus; You show me
the open gate of heaven, and again You leave me on earth.’ The Lord said to me,
‘When, in heaven, you see these present days, you will rejoice and will want to see
as many of them as possible. I am not surprised, My daughter, that you cannot
understand this now, because your heart is overflowing with pain and longing for
Me. Your vigilance pleases Me. Let My word be enough for you; it will not be
And so now – reflecting on that butterfly – I dare to ask my Beloved for the Grace to pray…
My Lord and my God – let YOUR word be enough for me… Only YOUR word!
For with prayer, I stand on Holy Ground where everything is clear. Here. At the Foot of the Cross.