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
I know I do. All the time. So much to do, I can push, pull, force and frantically move, and I still can’t seem to get what I wanted done in the amount of time I wanted it done in. Often times the lack of ability to, speed up, get the job done, move quicker, has made me feel like I have failed in some way. Then there is the Tortes.
Most people remember hearing the story of the tortes and the hair when they were children. The hair was quick as quick could be, and left the poor tortes in the dust, but in the end, the meek, the mild, the slow, the steady one, is the one who crossed the finish line first. Much to the hair’s chagrin, his lowly friend bested him with the tenacity only a turtle could have.
I met a tortes one day, moving slowly along, crossing an empty parking lot. He had a goal, a purpose, and a destination. It didn’t matter that he was slow, all that mattered was that he kept moving. And, though I didn’t have the time to watch the entire adventure take place, I am sure that he reached his destination, because he wouldn’t stop. Not even for a crazy girl with a camera in his face. He just kept on moving.
Next time I feel like I am moving at turtle speed, I am going to think of that tortes, and remember as long as I keep going, have my goal in mind, and stop worrying about the when, I will reach my destination.
But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.