Chasing Butterflies

Seems like the "outside world" had finally caught up to the unfiltered chaos that had been churning in my belly for months.

In the midst of all the madness, COVID-19 came like a "thief in the night" and interrupted my trajectory.

My optimism faded into the backdrop of forest fires caused by consuming racial tensions.

My faith wavered on the mountains of constant criticism of the "judge & jury" trying my every move.

My hope became overshadowed in the valley of contagious helplessness.

Social injustices claimed my attention: on the news, in the workplace, and even in my own backyard.

The roses wilted.
The gardenias lost their fragrance.
The lilies surrendered their petals.

Everything that I had prayed for last season became an eyesore in this season.

I missed the "calm in the storm" days of:

watching my grandson, stand up on the couch and play in my grandmother's silky, black tresses.

having morning coffee with the Tuckers.

book club discussions with my tribe.

trail walks and bike rides.

Most days by 6pm...

I drew the blinds on the outside interference,
closed the curtains to the current realities,
heavily sedated with carbohydrates (by default),
and escaped to the confines of the little gray couch for comfort.

I chased the "butterflies of familiar faces" that made me feel safe, secure, warm, and loved.

I replaced the clouds with the Son.

I nursed the infirmary of insecurities with the word of God.

Don't let the darkness of the world dispute your faith in the Father.

Turn on the LIGHT in the middle of the storm.

Sail your ship...until all of those 2020 visions manifest.