It’s not! It just isn’t. One moment you are sitting on a flower, soaking up the sun, enjoying a lovely spring day, and in the next moment a windshield is careening at you at 60 miles per hour… or at least it would be if you were a monarch butterfly who happened to venture over one of the many highways right next to that lovely park. It’s not fare! Something so beautiful shouldn’t have to die, and yet, it does. Just like us. We get sick, we get wounded, we fall, we fail, we die.
I do not wish to sound depressing or morbid. On the contrary. My goal is simple. It is to say that though this life is not fair there is hope. There is life beyond this one. That is what I hold on to when I hear about something tragic in my life or the lives of others.
The average monarch butterfly lifespan is only eight months. It is rather short, but it can do a lot in that time. It can fly thousands of miles, pollinate thousands of flowers, and even take a moment to reproduce themselves, continuing the God’s grand circle of life.
With the power of Christ love we have hope that this isn’t it. Even if it’s not fair, even if things fall or fail, we have hope. Jesus is our hope. I write this with tears in my eyes, knowing that a dear friend of mine has lost her father to cancer, but one thing I know, from knowing his daughter, to hearing the testimony of his life, He HAD HOPE, and now he is with the LORD Jesus Christ. Praise God.
O Lord, you alone are my hope. I’ve trusted you, O LORD, from childhood. Psalm 71:5
The early morning frost on the delicate petals of a small purple clover flower, appears beautiful. The sunlight streams through the forest trees glimmering ever so slightly on the crystals of ice that fiercely embrace the outside of the little plant. The tiny flower, bathed in frost, looks absolutely stunning, and yet, it is dying. In a day or so, the cold of that morning will have proven it’s power, and the tiny flower will be only a memory, replaced by a brown stubble, a mere shell of its former beauty.
The truth is, death is a part of this natural world, but something about it seems so unnatural, so ugly. Most people don’t like to think or talk about death, others spend countless hours worrying and fretting about it, but that has never changed the fact that we will all die. Will our death be beautiful? Will light glimmer through the joy, the love, and the hope we left behind in the lives of the people we have touched?
When I die, when finally God calls my head down to rest, I want it to be beautiful. I want the light He placed in my heart to shimmer through a thousand tiny prisms reflecting His Glory. The only way to do that, is to live a beautiful life. Join me.