“How does one become a butterfly?" she asked. "You must want to fly so much that you are willing to give up being a caterpillar.”

Yesterday, I discovered a body. At 16 51, on a 96 bus bound for Bluewater, as I sat in the very back seat, I noticed a small, dark smudge, at the base of the tiny hatch-window. On closer inspection, I discerned that it was in fact a protruding butterfly wing. I sat, studying the wing for quite some time, fascinated by the intricacies, in awe of it's beauty, and deeply saddened that it was confined to the back window of a TFL bus, when it would have once known blue skies and trees, flowers and grass, flight and freedom. It was in this grief that I suddenly felt compelled to set the butterfly wing free.

In retrieving it, I found that it was in fact a whole, deceased butterfly. And that it was even more beautiful than I had first suspected.

I'm not normally much of a wildlife person, but for some inexplicable reason, I was drawn; transfixed, by this lifeless, winged creature, resting on the window ledge.

As the bus careered along the road, it jolted and heaved, tossing the pitiful corpse here and there, completely oblivious to the solemnity that preoccupied the stern.

I was helpless. All I could do was watch as the iridescent bug was flung back and forth, until at last with one final jolt, and a thoughtful gust of wind, the butterfly was lifted up into the air, mounting the breeze, with the utmost grace and dignity, for her final flight. She was at peace. She'd flown for her last time, and I no longer needed to mourn. She was free.

It occurred to me, that life is a bit like that sorrowful butterfly. Beautiful, rare, precious and fleeting. We take it so much for granted, but every breath, every sunrise, every butterfly in the breeze, is a gift.

The Universal Declaration of Human Rights states that every person has the right to life. But that's simply not true. The word "right" connotes that we have earned, through our own action or authority to have a claim over something. We have no "right" to have breath in our lungs and blood in our veins. We've done nothing to deserve it. All we have to do is take a look at the mess we've made of our world, to see that human beings, really aren't all that.

Life, is a blessing, only by the grace, mercy, and eternal love of God. We need to make the gift of life that God has given us count. We have no claim over it, it's all for Him, and our reward will be that final flight.


"Not because of what I am,
But because of what You've done,
Not because of what I've done,
But because of who You are,
I am a flower, quickly fading,
Here today and gone tomorrow,
A wave tossed in the ocean,
A vapour in the wind,
Still You, hear me when I'm calling,
Lord, You catch me when I'm falling,
And You've told me who I am...
I am Yours "


I'm starting to realise I'm pretty selfish, and pretty arrogant, especially when it comes to my prayers. I need to be a lot more thankful for all the blessings that God has already poured out on me, and not take them so much for granted. Mary Jones, the little Welsh girl, who saved up all of her money, and walked for miles and miles, just to buy a Bible used to say "Count your blessings one by one, and see what the Lord has done."

I get busy praying for all the things I need, my friends need, the world needs, I often forget the crucial truth, that this life is merely borrowed, that I'm not (supposed to be) living for myself anymore, and that when Jesus told us to pray the whole "Your will be done" thing, He meant it.

I've never liked maths, but I'm going to start counting a bit more.