Books and Butterflies
Everybody has a chapter they don’t read out loud
Some have chapters they will retell because they’re proud
But no one can read between the lines of your life
Like the Saviour who died.
Spending time erasing the ink that’s already set in
Flipping through the pages hoping to fit in
Desperately ripping out that page
Where your words caused destruction
And their actions could offer no solution
You flip forward to the empty pages at the back
And hope that the past will be forgotten
So long as the future is full of…
You don’t know what but you’ll plan it and cram it all in
When the only real solution is dealing with your sin
But that’s not a nice word.
Tip ex it out. Edit. Rephrase.
No one wants to hear about being ‘washed in the blood of the lamb’
So people fill up their lives with this spam.
I’m sick of seeing people living in cages
With the door wide open, key on the floor
Believing the lies that people have told them
It’s not even an original plot line.
Your stories been written by the original creator
The Author of Salvation
So race along those lines
Forget the lies
Turn the pages with Jesus as the spine.
Lying there in the open air
I took refuge in the great expanse of God’s creation
Pastures green of his Kingdom our nation
I lay with my eyes closed
Trying to remain composed
Seeking tranquillity and peace
While in the back of my head
Those thoughts not put to bed
Feeling low, tired, and weary
What happened to feeling so free?
Can we go back to day three?
When new life was new
And I was too busy loving you
To care what others thought
Too busy thinking of your victory
To feel sins grip on me
Too full of your spirit
To ever question my belief in it.
But now every day brings new doubts
and I can’t help but sit and dwell in it.
When every sin is cosmic treason
Yet I still seem to forget the reason
To look to him not myself
Weak flesh put to the press
Can God’s grace ever be over stressed?
Because I’m left gripping onto the cross
With splinters in my fingertips
Shameful memories echoing in my ears like Roman whips.
Lying there in the open air
So close to a moment of despair
My eyes are closed
And upon my nose
Fell a butterfly
And it wasn’t just passing by
It sat there, perfect and white
Holding my breath I was captured by the sight
A symbol of new life
For just as the caterpillar gave up the ghost in its homemade tomb
Out flew the butterfly not a moment too soon
A perfect transformation
A beautiful demonstration
Of the glory in death and resurrection
And there it was
The world’s greatest love story
Sat upon me
Nature’s way of reminding me
That love found my soul worth dying for
And to quit living in my life before
Before Jesus was my King
Before death had lost its sting
“Quit picking up the cocoon and opening up old wounds
You’re too busy looking at the ruins of the past
To see the beauty of my craft
I’ve made you new
Alive in Christ
Pick up this new life
Spread your wings
It’s time you believed you can fly”
And with that I opened my eyes
The butterfly had gone
And I was left staring at the Son.