I’ve been seeing butterflies since the beginning of my race. Every single country. Butterflies.
There were butterflies in Chile, a few times at the Montessori. There were butterflies in Peru, on the train tracks to Machu Picchu. There were more butterflies in Peru, in the little village on the Amazon River. There were more butterflies in Colombia, at the park, at El Pomar, on walks to the grocery store, in Guatape. There were butterflies in Rwanda, they were at Momma’s school, and around us at the church. There are butterflies in Uganda, they were at debrief, they are in the flowers at the Deli, they are in Najjeera, they are at Life with Purpose.
All I’m saying is I’ve been seeing butterflies since the beginning of my race. I’ve seen them in every country… sometimes I see them a few times a week.. and other times a few weeks go by without seeing them at all. They are all different colors.. for the most part white and yellow, but a few different colors here and there.
They’re small, they cross my path, and I know they’re the Lord the second I see one. I’ve been asking since the beginning the reason for the butterflies. The sentimental part of me wanted to deeply believe they were loved ones.. following me. A reminder that I’m where I’m supposed to be. A reminder from those with my Father himself right now, that they’ve been sent to protect me, to guide me.
But when I pray, and I ask, I receive no response. He’s just there, shaking His head, watching me rumble and rummage through my mind to try to figure out an answer myself. I’ve gotten to the point where I see one, and I just acknowledge that it’s a gift, it’s a something, and I keep moving on.
…………………….
I’ve been experiencing homesickness since I was a child. I would go to countless friends’ houses on a Friday night and feel sick to my stomach by 9pm.. crying for my Dad to come pick me up. I would try to stay the night at my sister’s apartment, and would be crying again by 9pm for Dad to come get me.
It always hits at night. The first few nights of college, when I lay on my bed in my dorm, I felt sick to my stomach. I had to watch Grey’s Anatomy on my computer to make it go away.. I had to distract myself and find something to numb myself to make it go away.
The first few nights in Chile it hit me. I was embarrassed, ugh.. here I am 25 years old and almost in tears because “I miss home”. All I wanted was to be back in my parents’ house in Havasu, curled up in the big bed with a million pillows and the dogs. I told my team. I broke the wall down for the first time. I told these strangers that at night I get homesick.. I explained it’s been happening as far back as I can remember. They didn’t laugh.. they didn’t tell me to grow up, to get over it. But they didn’t let me sit in my homesickness. They pulled me out.. they were Jesus in those moments. They kept me accountable, made sure I wasn’t sitting in my feelings.. they sat with me in silence at night, no need to speak, but they sat in such presence with me I felt like I was at home.
Fast forward to December. Teams have switched, roles have been given, and there I was trying not to cry around a table at KFC in Kampala, Uganda trying to eat a chicken sandwich with my Alumni Squad Leaders and my new teammate because it’s almost 9pm and we haven’t made it to our house for the next week yet.
I got over it. I always do.
…………………
December 25 2018
Christmas Day
I’ve been reading this book, this book that has further fueled my desire and dream to one day write a book of my own. The book is called “Through the Eyes of a Lion”, it’s by Levi Lusko. I could go on and on about the fact that the book is filled with comparisons of faith to the Avengers and how it won my heart over with it’s witty humor.. but I’d be doing a disservice to the fact that this book was a gift to me directly from God himself.
On the day of the year that I would anticipate most racers to experience homesickness, Christmas, I opened up my book to find comfort in my favorite hobby: reading. The paragraph that was about be seared into my brain forever hit me in the gut like an unblocked side kick. It read as follows:
“I started to think a lot about butterflies and how if you cut them out of their cocoons or help them out in any way, they will never develop the strength they need in their wings to be able to achieve takeoff. They have to struggle out in order to come into their own. Flight only comes after the fight.” (pg24)
The fight. The homesickness. The internal war between my intestines and my brain and my heart around 9pm for as far back as I could remember.
Freaking butterflies.
See here’s the thing… Jesus is a gentleman, He will open the door for you, but He won’t force you to step inside the door. He is there, He was born literally to break chains and to create a link between us and heaven. He isn’t going to rip you out of your cocoon at the wrong time. The Lord knows what type of strength you need and what type of struggle you need to go through. He’s there through it all.. even if that means that at 9pm you start to get nauseous and just want to call Dad and have him fix it all.
Guess what? You can call Him. Because Dad is Abba. And Abba is the Father. And the Father is the Lord in Heaven who created the butterflies and the humans who help you feel a little more at home when you’re on the other side of the world.
So here is my declaration…
That I refuse to be homesick for anything other than the arms of my Father on the throne. That I refuse to let my mind be distracted by anything that does not lead me to Him. That I may feel pain, and I may struggle, and that I will fight.
Why?
Promise you won’t laugh?
Well… because when I moved from Michigan to Illinois in the 2nd grade, I was a caterpillar that turned into a butterfly in my 2nd grade musical.
Ask my Mother.. I even wore my favorite cheetah print velour shoes to my final performance..
JESUS IS SO FREAKING COOL!
Love y’all.
Cole Amy
