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"Chasing Butterflies" |








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There are those things, they say, that are useless; that have no meaningful purpose in the grand scheme of things. Acts of idleness that are counterproductive to further the progress of man, they tell me. They are many, these wasteful pleasures that occupy our valuable time and keep us from more beneficial tasks that could increase our earnings and nudge us upward on the ladder of life. |
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Chasing butterflies, on a Sunday afternoon, when all the world is golden and nothing else could be more significant. Holding within my careful grasp a delicate winged creature that God has taken the time to create solely to enhance my love of infinite beauty. Wading barefooted in the silvery coolness of an impetuous stream with bits of sand squishing between my toes. Watching a hummingbird eagerly partaking of the nectar I have strategically placed among the roses. |
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Whiling away the hours on the grassy shores of some sleepless lake for no more reason than to listen to a cricket's symphony. Languishing among a field of buttercups merely to sample the velvety sweetness of their wares. I have been guilty, I confess, whilst the world did pass me by, or so, it would seem, of stopping for beauty; of putting my time, my thoughts, my efforts on hold for moments such as these. For moments, as were needed to enrich my soul and pay homage to the Maker of so many sinful aversions. |
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And, when I did, I felt His presence, the closeness of His breath, as He peered over my shoulder; the warmth of his joy, as I brushed against some portion of His excellence; the strength that passed from His hand to mine, as I shared the very heart of Him. I have been humbled, not by power, or wealth, or scientific advance, which some might think should bring me to my knees, but, by chasing butterflies, and other natural delights that have brought me such bliss, as these… |

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