My Monarch

A monarch shared his day with me, twice passing by my eye this warmer than expected sunlit morn. First after 8 taking son Andrew to school in his jeans and Hawaiian burgundy base and flower shirt. Then after some quick easy errands about town; of reading and laundry, reading and dishes, reading and laundry while breathing, he found me again. Between the chores of life in short grass that enters our garden in the back yard with shirt on the bench but shoes still on I read and breathed. "Where Thousands Fell" my choice of several at hand, where life in New Guinea of World War II intermingled with the voice of the Lord and the adaptation of man. I saw him after Father Leonard had shared the generational promise:

"My soul waits for the Lord, my soul waits . . .
More than watchmen for the morning.
O'Israel , hope in the Lord!
And with Him is plenteous redemption,
And He will redeem Israel from all his inequities."

I watched as his wings beat effortlessly, riding on the breezes as he searched to my left, and behind me and in front of me for a place to find rest. "Good morning" I said out loud. "I'm glad you're here" and set the book upon my knee to watch him light upon the vinca six feet from my left elbow. The staggered flutter of his dark orange and black striped wings as he faced away from me changed to six evenly spaced movements while we both breathed in time together. Then he paused, and the gentle breezes flowing through moved him gently back and forth as we shared our lives for a few minutes. I resisted the temptation to return to my reading and breathed. In and out. Watching with thoughts of peace to you my new found friend. When at last I turned and picked up the pages of David, and Christ, and mud and men the monarch flew off in search of his path. I looked for him more than once the next hour between reading and dishes and a talk with my wife while on the phone at the kitchen window overlooking the garden.

He came briefly by twice more in this stretch. When Kristen came home for lunch and a free afternoon (quite rare). "Oh they're everywhere" she said, watching him fly but I knew in my heart it was my same friend. Then five minutes later I saw him again. Above the path to the ravine, twenty, thirty feet high among the majestic rise of the the Birch and Pine and Maple stretching toward the sky. Hundreds of years older than either he or I.

How much like that monarch the Monarch most high, the Lord who was born to give life, to die and rise again. His Spirit surrounds us and invites us to join Him in flight and in rest. He's always available if we're willing to look but His concerns for all mankind take Him to places at times we can not go. I loved both hearing and singing "All Hail King Jesus" for the rest of my chores which do not overwhelm or concern me. They just need to be done in their time, and they are, with joy in serving the lives God's given me here. All the while knowing my Monarch is near.

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