"Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God." Doctrine & Covenants 18:10
"God Loves Me"
It was an early winter day, just south of the city of Houston. The woman sitting on her bed in front of us was frail and thin. Jewelry ornamented her clothing and ears, matching the brightly colored bandana covering her bare head. As she visited with us, it seemed that the rounds of chemical treatments had taken as much toll on mind as it had her body. Although she had excitedly greeted us in her usual manner when we had entered her small apartment, the heavy feeling of hopelessness that occupied her thoughts became apparent. I sat quietly next to my mission companion who shared some thoughts to bring her hope. It was a story of a butterfly. The details of the story I don’t remember, however, there was one crowning part that did. Seeing a butterfly was a reminder that, “God loves me”.
It was hot. It was summer and the weather was in stark contrast to that winter day earlier in the sweet woman’s home. I was walking down the bug-infested side of the highway a few steps behind my companion. I was now in a city just northeast of Houston. As I ran through them in my mind, thoughts of the morning weighed more heavily with each step. It had been a difficult last few months with the companion I was serving with, but this morning seemed to be the worst. I had let frustration swell within me each passing minute as I had waited for her to wake. The minutes passed and the hours as she slept further into the day. My frustration manifested itself through the heated conversation that came after she woke. As we went out to serve, the friction between us had followed. Our appointment called to cancel and every door we knocked on was empty. We were on our way now to visit a family in hopes that they would help us feel the spirit of Christ in their home and bring us peace so we were better prepared to teach. The vexations I had felt earlier now melted away into feelings of worthlessness. We hadn’t accomplished anything this day. I had handled the situation with my companion earlier poorly and felt like I was far from deserving anything including peace. I was watching my feet as we trudged along wiping my dripping face and feeling the hot sun on my sticky back. As I stepped forward, I saw a black and orange butterfly in the grass below. I reached down to touch it, encouraging it to fly but it stayed stationary. I looked closer. Something had hollowed out its abdomen and it was preserved in an almost perfect form. As I held it up in my hand, an overwhelming peace filled my soul and the thought came to me, “God loves me.”
The same companion that had shared this story with me early that winter had also said, “God’s love for us never changes, only our ability to feel it.” At that moment, I knew that no matter what happens, what choices I make, God will always love me. I still have that butterfly, framed in a box as a reminder of that day and that no matter what, my Heavenly Father knows me, my every struggle and need. I know that, “God loves me.”
"God Loves Me"
It was an early winter day, just south of the city of Houston. The woman sitting on her bed in front of us was frail and thin. Jewelry ornamented her clothing and ears, matching the brightly colored bandana covering her bare head. As she visited with us, it seemed that the rounds of chemical treatments had taken as much toll on mind as it had her body. Although she had excitedly greeted us in her usual manner when we had entered her small apartment, the heavy feeling of hopelessness that occupied her thoughts became apparent. I sat quietly next to my mission companion who shared some thoughts to bring her hope. It was a story of a butterfly. The details of the story I don’t remember, however, there was one crowning part that did. Seeing a butterfly was a reminder that, “God loves me”.
It was hot. It was summer and the weather was in stark contrast to that winter day earlier in the sweet woman’s home. I was walking down the bug-infested side of the highway a few steps behind my companion. I was now in a city just northeast of Houston. As I ran through them in my mind, thoughts of the morning weighed more heavily with each step. It had been a difficult last few months with the companion I was serving with, but this morning seemed to be the worst. I had let frustration swell within me each passing minute as I had waited for her to wake. The minutes passed and the hours as she slept further into the day. My frustration manifested itself through the heated conversation that came after she woke. As we went out to serve, the friction between us had followed. Our appointment called to cancel and every door we knocked on was empty. We were on our way now to visit a family in hopes that they would help us feel the spirit of Christ in their home and bring us peace so we were better prepared to teach. The vexations I had felt earlier now melted away into feelings of worthlessness. We hadn’t accomplished anything this day. I had handled the situation with my companion earlier poorly and felt like I was far from deserving anything including peace. I was watching my feet as we trudged along wiping my dripping face and feeling the hot sun on my sticky back. As I stepped forward, I saw a black and orange butterfly in the grass below. I reached down to touch it, encouraging it to fly but it stayed stationary. I looked closer. Something had hollowed out its abdomen and it was preserved in an almost perfect form. As I held it up in my hand, an overwhelming peace filled my soul and the thought came to me, “God loves me.”
The same companion that had shared this story with me early that winter had also said, “God’s love for us never changes, only our ability to feel it.” At that moment, I knew that no matter what happens, what choices I make, God will always love me. I still have that butterfly, framed in a box as a reminder of that day and that no matter what, my Heavenly Father knows me, my every struggle and need. I know that, “God loves me.”
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