The Butterflies are FREE!!! (And the necklace appeared!)

This blog goes out to Susan Ceglio, a facebook friend I hope to hug enthusiastically one day!  When she commented on my first blog she "gently" said, "No pressure, but I hope there will be more."  This just shows a bit of the essence of the kind of person I perceive her to be - sweet, encouraging, creative and oh so full of love and life.  I assured her many more blog posts were coming!  And they are......however the little butterfly thoughts and stories have been flying quickly by before I can purposely capture them in my net, share them, and release!  THE BUTTERFLIES ARE FREE!!   I know Elton John says the butterflies can fly away - but I say NO, not yet!  (Are you tracking with me here, because if so I am impressed!)

So, tonight, I have 75 minutes to post so that I will at least have had 1 post a month since I began!  Hahaha!  I predict August will be a prolific blog month.

Since my butterflies are free and it's dark outside I can't find them right now.  So, let me be purposeful.  I will capture a meandering thought.        Hmmmmmmm      Waiting.        Waiting.    Praying now....should have done that first.

Got it!!  Stories are the best, don't you think?  Love to hear them, love to tell them.  Let me tell you a true story from when I was a little girl. There's an angel in this story.  You'll like it.

It was Christmas Eve and I was about 11 years old.  We were raised in a great Catholic home and it was our tradition to open gifts on Christmas Eve and then go to midnight mass.  It was really hard to stay awake after all of the excitement, but I loved going.  It was a magical thing to wear a beautiful, wintry Christmas dress, gloves, a lacy veil, and sometimes to carry a velvety little purse.  We would gather with so many people we would all be squished in together.  We lit candles and sang meaningful and long Christmas songs about baby Jesus and Wise Men and JOY to the World!  When the people talked and we sat, my brother and I would lean up tight against my Mommy.  She would put her arms around us, rub our backs and kiss our heads.  We glowed in her love.  We tried not to fall asleep.  After mass we would go close to the manger scene and look in awe as the characters represented there came to life in my imagination.  We took pictures in front of it every year.

There was something different about this year.  It was my own sad little secret that no one knew except God.  I had a silver necklace with a tiny little silver cross on it.  There was a teeny-tiny diamond in the middle of the cross and I thought it was the most treasured and beautiful thing I had ever seen. It had been a gift from my parents and I only wore that necklace on very special days.  I kept it on my dresser in a round, ornate little jewelry box with a red velvet lining.  It was the only thing I put in there.  That night, before church, I opened my box and the necklace was gone!  I looked everywhere for it and was sure I had misplaced it or lost it somehow.  I didn't tell anyone because I was afraid I might get in trouble for losing it, and I was so sad I didn't really want to talk about it.

I remember standing at my french provincial dresser, near my pink canopied bed, just looking in the empty box and simply asking God to please bring my necklace back to me.  My parents called, and it was time to go.  We got home sooooo late for such a little girl.  Daddy offered to make us breakfast but we wanted SLEEP!  I walked into my room to put my silky Christmas P.J.s on and there on my dresser was my cross necklace!! It was perfectly arranged, just waiting for me to gently pick it up and hug it to my neck!  I was overjoyed!  Since I HAD it I asked Mom and Dad if they had put it there - they said no. I asked my little brother Jay and he looked at me as if I was crazy to think HE would touch my girly necklace!  Remember, I hadn't told anyone - EXCEPT GOD - about my loss.  

Now you may think this a simple story, with a logical explanation, but I beg to differ.  I remember the night as if it were last night.  I remember the prayer, the deep sadness, the heart cry.  When I asked God to bring my necklace back I thought I would find it later in my room somewhere.  When I walked into my room that night I KNEW that I KNEW that I KNEW that an angel had delivered my treasure and placed it lovingly there for me to find.  Even at that early age I recognized the presence of God and His angels.  My family didn't really know that - it was pretty private.  I didn't even fully understand it.  I do now, and how deeply grateful I am to have had a few angelic experiences in my lifetime.  I know there will be many more.  The next time we talk about angels I'll tell you the first time I saw my guardian angel as she cared for me in the night hours.

God cares about the little things.  He always has, and He always will.  What little thing do you want to ask Him for tonight?  I know He'll answer.

Be Careful Means I Love You

Tonight I was on the way out the door to look at a bicycle I had found listed on Craig's List.  I got instructions from my sweet husband on how to tell if the frame was bent - that tip made me feel like I really knew what I was doing.  Awesome.  Let's hunt it down, check it out, and bring it home - I AM WOMAN!


As I was leaving the house I knocked on my Mama's door to let her know about my little adventure.  She got "that look" on her face.  You know the one.  Eyebrows scrunched together, head tilted slightly forward, mouth with just a touch of downturn.  "Is it at someones' house?" she asks.  "Yeah." I say nonchalantly trying to sidle out the door before she can ask another question.  Quickly she says, "Are you going by yourself?"  "Yup", I say in a lilty kind of tone, "I'll be right back!"  And then - the two words that always make me feel like I'm a 5 year old trying to cross a freeway by myself - BE CAREFUL!!!  She doesn't actually say the words loudly, as the capital letters would suggest, that's just the way I hear them.


This has been going on my entire life.  I am a happy go lucky, Type A personality.  I am sensible, but also convinced that nothing bad is going to happen to me.  My sweet Mom is a bit of a worrier - hopefully getting less so all the time.  She LOOOOOOOOOOOVES her family so very much.  She often thinks of all of the boogie men in the world as soon as you tell her where you're going.  She can imagine each and every scenario that could happen with all of those "crazy people" out there - and she does it in an instant!  You can see her wheels turning!


I am ashamed to admit that tonight I actually ROLLED MY EYES at my Mom as I was leaving.  Now this might be common for some, but shouldn't be when I am in my 50's and she in her 70's!!  I haven't done that in so many years I didn't realize I still knew how!  I said good-bye and that I would "be careful" in a tone of voice that could only be used by one who didn't think there was anything to fear and  you were being silly if you thought there was. Yikes.  I hate to even write this and tell on myself.


I felt convicted of my ridiculous reaction before I ever got out of the driveway.  I knew I would apologize sincerely as soon as I got home.  I asked God to forgive me for being so rude to my precious Mom who loves me in the way only a mother can.  I began to think about the phrase "be careful" and why she ALWAYS says it.  


For my Mom be careful means I know bad things happen to good people all of the time.  She has learned that the last time you see someone step out the door could really be the last time.  She knows that driving can be dangerous, accidents happen, strangers are not always nice, and sometimes we just do things that are not safe without realizing it.  She is "sure" I'll be fine, but not completely sure.  She is only sure of that when we are side by side.  She wants to do whatever she can to have everything go perfectly - even if I'm just going to the corner store (especially if it is dark.).  She is a Mom.  She takes care of me.  And I take care of her.


I realize that I have told my own adult children to "be careful".  I laugh at myself when I do it and I know they feel the same way I do.  I am not a big worrier so it doesn't happen often, but I try not to let it happen at all.  Even though, it has become clear to me that "be careful" really just means, I love you and I want you to always be safe.


So tonight I learned two valuable things.  I took that tip from my hubby and spun that bike wheel around only to see it wobble like wild weeble!  The bike did not come home.  The second, and far more valuable lesson is to accept and treasure my mother's love and care for me - any way she says it!


Be careful Mom - and I will too.