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Inspirational
Stories
The
Butterfly
A man found
a cocoon of a butterfly. One day a small opening appeared;
he sat and watched the butterfly for several hours as it struggled
to force its body through that little hole. Then it seemed
to stop making any progress. It appeared as if it had gotten
as far as it could and it could go no farther. Then the man
decided to help the butterfly, so he took a pair of scissors
and snipped off the remaining bit of the cocoon. The butterfly
then emerged easily. But it had a swollen body and small,
shriveled wings. The man continued to watch the butterfly
because he expected that, at any moment, the wings would enlarge
and expand to be able to support the body, which would contract
in time Neither happened! In fact, the butterfly spent the
rest of its life crawling around with a swollen body and shriveled
wings. It never was able to fly.
What the man in his kindness and haste did
not understand was that the restricting cocoon and the struggle
required for the butterfly to get through the tiny opening
were God's way of forcing fluid from the body of the butterfly
into its wings so that it would be ready for flight once it
achieved its freedom from the cocoon.
Sometimes struggles are exactly what we need
in our life. If God allowed us to go through our life without
any obstacles, it would cripple us. We would not be as strong
as what we could have been. And we could never fly.
- Author Unknown
Winter
of Our Discontent
It was spring at last. Judi was
pregnant. In fact she was extremely pregnant, it was our first
child. We lived in a very small apartment in Mount Clemens,
Michigan. It was 1964. It had been a long, hard winter. All
along the roadways were great mounds of soot-blackened, grimy,
slowly melting snow, standing as bleak reminders of the cold
and lonely months behind us. The departed snow left a newly
naked and embarrassed landscape, covered with an uninviting
array of dead, brown weeds and grass, sprinkled with scattered
bits of blown, discarded trash that had been conveniently
hidden until now. Spring didn't look like the beginning of
something?
It looked like the end.
If I say that this happened in the winter
of 64, winter, sounds like an isolated entity like saying
senior year!. A Michigan winter is not a single thing. It
is a multifaceted, amalgamation of things that get all mixed
up and twisted together. The event that I am about to record
was not a single event; it was the culmination of a thousand
events, some so infinitely small that neither of us noticed
or remembered them, but they happened..they had been happening
since we began our courtship and marriage.
We only had one car, which I used in my work.
I was busy in my job. I left early and came home late. I went
places, met people, had lunch, hunted, fished, and played
golf. Judi was home alone every day, and she was pregnant.
I emphasize her pregnancy because no man has ever experienced
it or understands it (few have even tried understanding it,
I mean) and because pregnancy is such a unique thing especially
the first one. We knew very few people, she had no transportation
and no place to go.
The winter had been made even longer by the
fact that we had no money and therefore could not buy our
way out of the oppressive isolation that had settled over
us. There were no shopping trips, no movies, no evenings out.
We had been married long enough for the new
and the curiosity to wear off, but not long enough to be comfortable
with each other or our vanished, unrealistic expectations.
We had lost the world of our wishes, but we
had not replaced it with one of our hopes. It had been a very
long winter!
Even the advent of spring hadn't been much
help. Gray, overcast skies continued to depress, temperatures
made promises that were never kept and still no money.
I wasn't paying attention.
Finally, we woke up one Friday morning to
sunny, encouraging skies. As I left the house, I mentioned
quite casually that if things went well at work and I got
off early, we might drive up the river road to Charlevoix
and have dinner.
Oh, could we?? There was great expectation
in her voice, but I wasn't paying attention.
Things went unexpectedly well at work, and
by 11:30 I was finished. An unexpected sale had put some unexpected
dollars in my pocket, and when my fishing buddy, Larry, called
and told me that the perch were running in the Clinton River,
my unexpected expectations ran totally out of control.
I didn't deliberately break my word to Judi...in
some ways that would have been more honorable.
I did something worse.
I forgot her!
I broke all speed records getting home, locked
up all four wheels and skidded to a stop in a cloud of dust
in the driveway, ran into the house and yelled, Hi, I'm home,
as I yanked off my tie and unbuttoned my shirt, preparing
to change into fishing clothes.
"What are you doing?"
It wasn't a challenge; it was a pleading question,
but I didn't hear the pleading?
I just heard the question.
I'm going fishing with Larry; the perch are
running in the Clinton River.?
I hadn't seen her yet, but now she came into
the bedroom. She had her hair all done up, and she was dressed
in her only Sunday pregnant dress.
But I never noticed.
Oh, she said. Hurt and disappointment were
in the Oh..
But I didn't hear her pain.
Could you fix me a thermos of tea and a couple
of sandwiches??
Sure, she said. How long will you be gone??
There was longing in the question, but I was totally occupied
with my preparations.
Oh, probably till dark, depends on how good
it is.?
She was standing just inside the door as I
rushed past, fishing rods in one hand, lunch in the other.
Have a good time, she said, and although it
was sincere, there was pain in it; but the pain escaped me..at
least it escaped my consciousness.
I'm sure I will, I said, You have a good time
too.
Sure, she said.
I put the rods in the trunk and the lunch
on the seat. I started the motor and started to back up, but
something was nagging at me. I went over a list of the things
I would need, but that wasn't it. I had the eerie feeling
that I had forgotten something, that something was missing,
so got out and went back inside to look.
She was standing right where I had left her,
just inside the door, eyes wide open and huge tears rolling
down both cheeks. She wasn't shaking or sobbing; she was just
standing there hands at her sides, eyes wide open, tears running
down looking at me.
Honey, what's wrong?? I was so dumb. So lost
in my own world, my own happiness, feelings, and pleasures,
my own needs and wants that I didn't know anybody else had
any.
You never have time for me....
I was so dumb.
She didn't yell, didn't even raise her voice;
it would have been easier if she had. It was just a quiet
statement of truth that left me convicted and heartsick. Everything
just sort of went out of me. I felt lost, empty, and sick
all at the same time. I just stood there. I had no words for
the feeling that the entire foundation of my life had just
been destroyed, taken right out from under me, leaving me
dangling. Her words seemed to hang in the air?
You never have time for me....
I didn't know that I was supposed to have
time for her! Or anybody else for that matter. Unless it served
some selfish purpose. Again, I want you to see that I wasn't
mean or vicious. I wasn't one to speak harshly or be abusive;
I was simply and totally self-centered, so much so that..
I didn't even know it.
What does a man do with a crying wife? I went
fishing! Not with Larry, but with Judi, but my heart wasn't
in the fishing. I don't even remember if we caught anything.
We sat on the riverbank, and we held hands and talked, but
not much. I wasn't ready. We ate the sandwiches and drank
the tea, and once, she took my hand and placed it on her extended
tummy. Feel that?? she said.
Wow! I said.
That's your son kicking around in there.
It was the beginning. No it actually wasn't.
Beginnings are hard to pin down. It had begun long ago, somewhere
in the dim recesses of my childhood. Perhaps it was the beginning
of awareness, an awareness of other people, of what a marriage
is supposed to be. I lay awake late that night, long after
I heard the slow, steady breathing that meant she was asleep,
with all kinds of new thoughts buzzing around in my head.
I didn't know it, but the winter of our discontent was over.
It was becoming the spring of promise, because I was becoming
a man.
Read the following passage
slowly, very slowly, and with care.
When I was a child, I used to speak as a child,
think as a child, reason as a child; when I became a man,
I did away with childish things... But now abide faith, hope,
love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.
The winter of our discontent had been created
by my selfishness, by my refusal to put my egocentric childhood
behind me and grow into the man that God intended me to be
so that I could begin to learn the meaning of love. The first
duty of a husband or wife is to grow up, to put childhood
aside. To become a man or woman. And to think of others.
- John William Smit
|
Cosmos
of Happiness
