Sunday, May 8, 2011

A Ripped Wing

Like my title? Pretty poetic right? I know. I know. I try.

So, I'm currently writing about the World's Columbian Exposition in 1893 in Chicago. Sounds exciting, doesn't it? Not. After reading about it most of the afternoon, I found myself restless and needing to get out of my apartment. So I packed up my laptop and backpack and headed to the library. As I walked over, however, I came across a butterfly on the ground. I love getting to see a butterfly. So naturally, as the curious creature I am, I stopped and looked at it. That's when I saw the ripped wing and I automatically sympathized for the poor creature. I crotched down and looked at it. I then picked it up and put it in my hand. I watch it crawl around my hand and use that little mouth/antenna on my skin. I was fascinated because I never really get to see a butterfly that up close often. I decided that I needed to put it somewhere safe so that maybe... it could live a bit longer. Idealistic and a bit childish, I know. But gosh darnet, I wanted to save that butterfly.

So I put it on a tree.

I watched it crawl around for a bit and thought about moving it. It really didn't like to be moved though. It squirmed between my fingers anytime I did move it. But I didn't know where else I would move it too. I mean, it's not like there are butterfly safety zones all around the university campus. So I decided to leave it there and hope the best for it. The butterfly would just have to fend for itself I suppose.

As I walked away, I couldn't help but think of the butterfly as a broken butterfly. And how, for the past few months, I've felt very broken. With the constant feeling of anxiety in my chest and the random bursts of emotions pouring forth, it's hard to feel normal and put together. When I saw the butterfly, I didn't put myself right along in the same boat. But to me, the broken butterfly seemed another symbol of brokenness: a butterfly with ripped wings. It's a very sad image if you really think about it. Butterflies are meant to flutter and fly around during the spring time, spreading their beautiful wings and gracing the other creatures of the Earth with their presence. Not be ripped and shredded on the cold sidewalk.

There was another sign/instance of brokenness in my life. I had called a friend over to talk about some things. I was feeling really upset and needed someone to just talk to and looking for some comfort. She came over along with her mom. We all talked a bit and eventually her mom left. I was on the verge of tears and ready to spill my guts. However, a few minutes later though, her mother came back and began randomly speaking to her daughter about a sermon she heard a few days ago. It was about the woman who broke the jar at Jesus's feet and washed them with the perfume from the jar. The mother then stated, "He said that the jar was broken so that the perfume could leave the jar and be shared with everyone. He then also said that sometimes, God needs to break things in order to use them, so that he can shine through the broken pieces and put them back together even better than before." I was just standing there, almost in tears, wondering, "Is this woman speaking to me? Or is that egotistical of me to think?" I was standing there, feeling as if I was breaking, and I felt like God was saying, "You're supposed to be like this. It'll be OK. Just wait."

And that's when I began hearing things about waiting for God. It seemed like anything I read or watched had to do with waiting. I'd read people's blogs and they talked about how they needed to wait. Heck, I was even watching the Hachi movie trailer in Japanese and the song they used said, "I will be waiting". Heck! The movie is all about how Hachi waits for his owner. And then, my sister sent me a link on dating and the girl kept saying, "I will wait for you Lord." So, I think I'm supposed to be broken and waiting. But it's hard. I want to do something. It feels like I'm missing something. Like there's something stuck in my chest and I just want to pull it out, but don't know how. But I think I need to wait for God to pull it out.

Man, but whenever this happens or however it happens, I feel like it's going to be quite painful.

So here's to waiting and be broken. Wee...

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