She’s A Butterfly

I heard this song by Martina Mcbride on my sister’s blog, and it touched my heart in a way that few ever have. Though I thought I had a handle on it, it seems that April is still my month of mourning, but this year it has been for the loss of parents I never had. I guess you never get over that need. A lot of my friends are at the point in their lives where they are losing and mourning their parents, but they have the wonderful memories and voices of affirmation in their heads of their love and they have ties that will forever bind them to their beloved parents. I only met my father on three occasions in my adult life. The first time his face was of a complete stranger to me, and yet—he wasn’t. I still carried a memory somewhere in my little two-year old heart I guess. He took my brother and I out to dinner, and that night he gave me something I’d never had before, and never had since. It was so elusive I don’t have words for it, but it seemed that he was pleased with me, and with my life, in a way that no one else can be. I’ve never thought of it this way before but could it be akin to the look in Ron’s eyes when he talks with his darling daughters?

Do you believe that we can get messages from people on the other side of the veil? I finally downloaded this song, and I cry and cry when I hear it. I keep thinking that this is a message from my dead Daddy. (That’s what his other children call him.) It feels like he feels this way about me, and wants me to believe it! “Oh Lord, help thou my unbelief!” When I listen it seems possible! I’m going to keep listening!

(And then I found this incredible butterfly picture, with hearts! Is that a coincidence?)

Thank you Daddy!

She remembers when she first got her wings
And how she opened up the day she learned to sing
Then the colors came, erased the black and white
And her whole world changed when she realized

She's a butterfly, pretty as the crimson sky
Nothing's ever gonna bring her down

And everywhere she goes, everybody knows
She's so glad to be alive, she's a butterfly

Like the purest light in a darkened world
So much hope inside, such a lovely girl
You should see her fly, it's almost magical
It makes you wanna cry, she's so beautiful

She's a butterfly, pretty as the crimson sky
Nothing's ever gonna bring her down
And everywhere she goes, everybody knows
She's so glad to be alive, she's a butterfly

God bless the butterfly
Give her the strength to fly
Never let her wings touch the ground
(God bless the butterfly)

God bless the butterfly
Give her the strength to fly
Never let her wings touch the ground

Oh, she's a butterfly, pretty as the crimson sky
Nothing's ever gonna bring her down
And everywhere she goes, everybody knows
She's so glad to be alive, she's a butterfly
She's a butterfly, she's a butterfly

God bless the butterfly
Give her the strength to fly
Never let her wings touch the ground
(God bless the butterfly)

God bless the butterfly
Give her the strength to fly
Never let her wings touch the ground

Cover Your Mouth When Yawning In Public

As I watched someone in church today let out a big YAWN (without covering their mouth) which of course, is contagious, I couldn’t stifle my yawn—but I DID cover my mouth! I covered my mouth because whenever I yawn, I hear my high school dance teacher Virginia McDonald’s voice, “Always cover your mouth when yawning in public!” She taught her students much, much more than dance. She also taught us etiquette and poise. I was so scared of that woman, but I will never forget some of the things she taught us—she had a great influence on my life.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full. Don’t cross your legs when sitting in front of people. Stand with your shoulders straight. When in doubt follow the lead of your host or hostess. Take a gift when invited to dinner. Don’t interrupt others while having a conversation. Always say thank you, and be grateful for what you do have and don’t waste time on what you don’t, as well as many, many others!”

It made me think of all the other voices I hear in my head.

I read the book “Dave at Night” this week, by Gail Carson Levine who is the author of “Ella Enchanted.” My daughter recommended it, but warned me I would need a box of Kleenex. I actually needed two, because it’s the story of an orphan, and for me “Dave” was my father, who really did grow up in an orphanage. Orphan stories always have a common theme running through them—nobody wants them, and they are always told how worthless they are and that they will never amount to anything. Boy, do I relate. I was raised by a grandmother who was orphaned by the time she was seven. She grew up as a “poor relation” and I’m certain she was fed all those lines—which she then passed on to me! I’m amazed at how often those old negative voices still try to haunt me, but we don’t have to be an orphan to feel inadequate. The world is filled and her cup literally runneth over with negative messages for any, and all, who will listen and entertain them! The negative voices who keep trying to convince us all, that we will never amount to anything—that we cannot possibly accomplish this or that.

Thank Heavens for the best voice in my head!

Thank Heavens for the voice of the Lord! Which I KNOW, though it’s a still small voice, can override all the other voices vying for attention in our heads and hearts, and saying, “You are my daughter and I LOVE you. Hang on. Keep trying. You’ll do better next time. I adore you! Your presence (while we are in prayer) makes me so happy, thank you for visiting with me today. Please come again tomorrow. When you get homesick, come to my Holy Temple and there I’ll give you rest and there you can remember my promises! This life is only for a little season, and then I will hold you in my arms again!”

I think Heavenly Father also wants me to show my consideration for others (which is really what good manners are, according to Mrs. McDonald) by covering my mouth when yawning in public, but so much more importantly remembering that truly, “I am a daughter of my Heavenly Father who loves me!”

Father

(Posted by Donna B. Nielsen on her blog "Connections.")

"Throughout the silent years Jesus was learning the meaning of family life. The name for God which came most naturally to the lips of Jesus was Father; and the very use of that word is itself a very beautiful compliment to Joseph. It was said of Martin Luther that he hesitated to pray the Lord’s Prayer and to say “Our Father,” because his own father had been so stern, so unbending, so unsympathetic that the word “father” was not a word which he loved. To Jesus the name “father” was the most natural and the most precious name for God, and it was in the home at Nazareth that he must have learned the meaning of that word."

Reading of Martin Luther's harsh negative experience with the word "Father" made me stop and ponder my own experience with the word. If anyone should have a negative connotation of the word I should. I never knew my "real father" as I always called him in my mind. He left us before I turned two years old. The only thing I ever knew about him was my grandmother's comment when my brother or I did something wrong, "You are just like your dirty rotten, no-good father!" (I don't think she liked him)

Well that made a kid feel good. But, I never actually called anyone father, the word was not in my vocabulary. I called my step-father Jim. And, that word "Jim" makes me flinch like Martin Luther trying to say "Our Father." The word father to me has ALWAYS meant my Father in Heaven. I heard about Him the first time when I was ten years old hiding behind the old wood stove when the missionaries came to teach Jim. I felt the spirit bear witness to me that these kind, gentle, stake missionaries were telling the truth! I received a testimony of the gospel that has never left and which has sustained me all the days of my life since then. (That was nearly fifty years ago!)

Donna's post sent me to Psalms 68:6, but it was verse 5 that caught my attention: "A father of the fatherless, and a judge of the widows, is God in his holy habitation." Heavenly Father TRULY always was and is my Father! The name is sacred and precious and fills me with warmth, and love. I have a lifetime of memories of peace and comfort in times of trial, and memories of gratitude and love for more blessings than I can contain! God lives! And, He is truly our Father In Heaven!

Happy Birthday Grandpa Frank