The Old Man and the Butterfly

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A butterfly briefly settled on the edge of the fountain between the woman and the man.  It bowed its’ head to take a drink in a small puddle of water on the well’s rim.  They both looked down at the butterfly; the man wondered at the beauty in the shape and colors of the wings.  Then, it slowly rose and as if on command paused at eye level between the two people.  Its seemingly timed pause drew both of their eyes back into contact.  Then, it flew on to its’ next task.  A life seemingly so fleeting - but so important.

 

 

     “Your people, as well as mine, believe that if they go to a specific location, at a specific time, do a specific ritual, sing specific songs and pray in a specific way, they have worshipped God. But, worship is not an activity; it is a relationship.  It is a relationship based on God’s standard.  Since He is spirit, he can only be worshipped in spirit.  The problem with how you and your people worship, as well as how my people worship, is that God is not there.”

 

 

      Something deep inside her soul began to awaken.  She could not go back.  She was now to begin.