When I was six or seven or maybe eight I was with my dad on the patio and we had just ate when an orange and gold and black butterfly came gliding by. He sat his wings and tiny feet upon my knee as if he were there just to visit me.
I started to shoo him off but dad held my hand and said, "don't". "He is a messenger sent from God." "A messenger from God." I replied? "Why would God send a messenger to me?"
"Maybe he needs your help," my dad replied.
"How can I help God," I asked?
"I do not know, that is between you and God," my dad replied. "The next time you talk to him, just ask"
I never asked.
I wonder what God wanted?
Posted by George S Batty