I woke up this morning and was very pleased to meet our first butterfly. I almost missed it in my rushing around, but it finally got my attention. (Sound familiar?) I took the butterfly box around to each room so I could wake up the children with a glimpse of God's handiwork. Pretty cool.
I got to thinking about how much my children are like the butterflies: They spend the early part of their life pooping a lot, eating a lot and needing to be sheltered and have their needs met. Then they spend some time apart from you and emerge better than you ever imagined they could be and nothing at all like you'd expect.
(Katie and I did note that most of them seemed to empty their digestive system in a big way shortly before making their cocoon. I figure that must be the deep, meaningful equivalent of adolesence.)
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