Love One Another

I had so much fun taking my Bestie on a birthday outing today. We made pallet board signs which was so lovely and time well spent.

I chose this board because as I continue on this journey as a grieving mom, I’ve realized that love is the most complex simplicity there is.

Love is truly the only thing humans can do for one another that lasts, not only in this lifetime, but the next as well.

Every single person you encounter needs love.

Because every single person you encounter is hurt.

Some more than others, some more brutally than others, some more often than others…but every single one is hurt.

Think about that.

Every. Single. One.

If we were to simply carry that in the back of our minds as we do each day, maybe, just maybe, we could all have a little more empathy for the people around us.

Empathy begets love.

We are, after all, just trying to do our best, living in the same world…a very difficult, harsh world.

That makes us neighbors.

“One of the teachers of the law came and heard them debating. Noticing that Jesus had given them a good answer, he asked him, ‘Of all the commandments, which is the most important?’

‘The most important one,’ answered Jesus, ‘is this: Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.

The second is this: Love your neighbor as yourself.

There is no commandment greater than these.”

Mark 12:28-31

It doesn’t have to be complicated.

Be patient. Be kind. Be others’ cheerleader. Be humble. Be polite. Be selfless. Be level-headed. Be forgiving. Be truthful.

Protect. Trust. Hope. Persevere.

Love one another.

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Why did you let her fly away?

This girl’s main summer goal was to hold a butterfly.

I was so happy it happened today.

Lilly’s entire demeanor changed the second I put that butterfly on her finger.

Her smile was bigger, her giggle was louder, and even her voice grew higher.

For just a few, short moments, she gazed upon a genuinely beautiful piece of God’s creation.

“I’m gunna name her Maya!”

Those moments were precious. They were whimsical. All was well.

But then it was time to let the butterfly go.

The tears.

“Why did you let her fly away?

I love her!

She’s so beautiful!

I want her to live with me forever!

I will miss her too much!”

And suddenly, as I looked into my beautiful daughter’s hazel eyes filled with tears, I saw my own.

And I heard my voice. Talking to God.

About my Sylvia.

This is the same exact conversation I have with Him every day.

Anger. Confusion. Regret. Despair. Repeat.

The parallels don’t stop there, of course. Obviously the butterfly has a life better lived apart from us. Sylvia is enjoying perfection as the Lord intended in heaven.

It’s far better for her.

But it breaks us.

This is the curse of being a sinner and saint. We have hope and joy in the reunion to come.

But the wait hurts. Oh, it hurts.

I told Lilly we would see Maya again. And of course, one of the loveliest parts of being a child is the ability to look forward to things that aren’t actually real.

We will see Maya again. Maya will be any and every Monarch Butterfly who comes to Schuetz Farms for as long as she wants it to be.

Adulthood mostly sucks.

But.

Being a Christian adult allows me to revert to the same hope of a child, one whose faith informs her facts and not the other way around.

The fact is, the next time I see Sylvia she will be MY Sylvia. The very same one I named. The same one I held in my womb, in my arms for too-short if a time, and will hold again.

The very same Sylvia He formed and saved.

Fly well, Maya. We will see some form of you again soon.

Save a seat for me, Sylvie. Your mama is coming.