Mothers for Prodigals

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Heart of the Matter

Fumbling way down in the bottom of my purse, I uncover a forgotten object that has no specific home, yet could belong anywhere. It may mean nothing to some, but for me it’s the symbol of a belief that is grounded in the depths of my soul.

I find myself gazing at a small stone that appears to have melted onto a flat surface causing one level side. Clutching it in my hand, I stare into the clear reflective red of the stone and my mind’s eye travels to the center of the earth. The inner core of the earth is extremely hot and under such violent pressure that it is compressed into solid iron. Trekking back mentally to the surface of the earth, I encounter fractures in the crust caused by earthquakes. Strength abounds in and around this astounding planet. Within the essence of my being, I know there is a Creator God.

Back in my living room, I fondle the pocket-sized stone and examine its vivid intensity. The red begins to illumine my heart, beating with passion and overflowing with compassion. Scientifically speaking, the heart pumps blood carrying an iron-containing protein called hemoglobin all throughout the body. I listen to the pumping of life with every heartbeat and realize that only God could create such complexity. Pain awakens my memory to blood oozing from a cut on my foot. It wasn’t an earthquake but a fall that landed me on a rock in a creek. Ligaments and tendons disconnected, but as a boot and time began to heal my foot, discs in my back slipped apart. Bodily discomfort pulls me back to the present and in this weakened physical state, I wonder how stable is my core?

As I contemplate my condition, I pick up the stone to answer that question. Drawn across the top of the little red stone is a gold cross and I’m reminded of my core’s stability, the heart of the matter. My strength, the iron within, comes from a greater Power. The same Creator God who fashioned the earth formed me. Holding the polished stone, I’m aware of Who makes my rough places smooth. I believe in a Savior God who enriches my life on earth and prepares a place for me in heaven. He’s a friend who is closer than a sister, sticking by me through thick and thin.

Why do I believe these things? How do I know? Have I seen evidence? Yes, I have. God speaks to me through His creation. A month had come and gone since the death of my Daddy. While sitting in my car, a butterfly flew alongside the hood, hovered at the windshield, and then took flight. God lovingly communicated to me with a butterfly that my father was in His care. Why a butterfly? The butterfly symbolizes new life and because I value this creation, God speaks to me through its beauty.

God’s voice through creation continued to reach my heart though four fragile years with a prodigal daughter. I believed eventually she would return to her family, but as doubt plagued my mind, I spoke to God about her and a butterfly glided down into my backyard and floated up to me. My Friend had spoken again.

His care and concern seemed to emerge in all areas of my life. When it was confirmed that I had a slipped disc, I left work alarmed and almost in tears. As I started my twenty minute ride home, butterflies began approaching my car. Whether they were near or far away, the butterflies were clearly visible. By the time I pulled into my garage, I had seen twenty-nine butterflies. I knew that I’d be OK! This I believe to the core of my being: a higher Being is watching over me.

Fumbling around again in my purse, I search for the perfect spot for my mighty red stone. It has found a permanent home in my handbag. I pray the next time I uncover that stone, God will take me on another journey of hope.

1 comment:

  1. A journey of hope confirmed!
    I'm so glad to know that God speaks to you in Butterfly, he is
    currently speaking to me in the color orange! Amazing!
    S. Weatherspoon