Yesterday while picking peppers and okra in the garden, right after I took these pictures and put my camera away, the sweetest little butterfly came flittering around me and seemed to ask me to dance. She beckoned me with her gentle sways and tried her best to get me to join in the splendid ballet she was preforming so gracefully.
Sweet thing that she was, she had no idea how clumsy and unrhythmic I am. I went on with my pepper picking, and ant dodging and she with her twirling and soaring. I must admit that her performance made the sweltering hot chore so much more enjoyable, and soon it seemed as though even my spastic bending and rising, stooping then stretching, picking and plopping peppers into the bucket took on a rhythm that for a brief moment was interwoven with her genteel elegance and satisfied her enough that with one last pirouette she twirled and flew on her way.
I finished my chore with a smile thinking of how we sometimes see glimpses of God’s glory in His creation.
“Marvelous are our works,
And that my soul knows very well.”