I Like the Moth

Twice a year our church family goes away for a weekend at a Catholic retreat center. It's a beautiful setting out in Western Kansas with lakes, hiking, and lodge style bunks. Imagine squeaky beds and plastic covered mattresses. No one sleeps well, but we soak up cozy vibes around the fire and enjoy escaping the city for extended time together.

This year, as we unloaded the van and shuffled bags and bedding to our room, we came across a familiar scene. Bugs. Bugs everywhere. Spiders in doorway frames and beetles along the path. My kids squirmed and shrieked at every siting. Then they'd get low, examine the specimen, try to collect it, shriek again, jump, and run off to the next new thing.

One such sighting lasted longer than the others, though. As we walked the path with our bags my five-year-old pointed out a large black and white moth on the ground. It was big enough to take me by surprise. I put my hand on his back and told him to move along, not sure if was dead or ready to spring into flight.

My son tried to take a closer look and then shrieked at the sight of its fuzzy wings and alien like eyes. "I DO NOT like that moth!" he said. "It's DEAD!" I tried to shoo him through the door to unload our bags, but he refused to move, afraid to cross paths with the winged alien bug. So I did what any (normal) mom would do in the moment. "Keep moving!" I said, as I bopped him on the back-end with a sleeping bag. He leapt over the insect and scampered down the hallway. From then on the moth was "a thing". He'd stop, dance around a 5ft radius of the moth, and flee in a panic.

As the weekend progressed so did my son. The 5ft radius turned to 3ft. Instead of leaping he shuffled by. He started slowing down, looking closer, and growing in curiosity. The wings were fully splayed and the black leopard spots were quite impressive to behold.

As we packed up our room on the final day and prepared to head home we crossed paths with the moth one more time. My son stopped, looked at the moth, and said to me, "Mama, I'm not afraid any more. I like the moth." He bounded off to the van as I stood in amazement.

What are the things that I've been dancing around, the situations, challenges, or circumstances that cause me to shriek, flee, and turn away in disgust? Am I growing in confidence to look at them more closely? Am I allowing myself to become more familiar with the things that appear ugly? Or do I continue to dismiss them?

In that moment my 5 year old filled me with courage to grow in curiosity when looking at the places of life that scare me. Maybe one day I'll be able to turn to the Lord, look up at His face and say, "Daddy, I'm not afraid any more." I've looked long enough to find the beauty.