A Butterfly for Rebecca
September 26, 2020:
I look out the window. “Oh, there’s a white butterfly by the rosemary!” I am standing by Rebecca massaging her feet and Matt is sitting with his computer at the table nearby.
Rebecca starts to cry. She says she had asked God if He was going to heal her to let her hear the word, “butterfly.”
In the spring, at dinner I had asked, “What three B’s are in the rosemary? Rebecca had quickly answered, “Butterflies, Birds and Bees” The rosemary had been flooded with white butterflies, the buzzing of bees and the flitting of little birds. But now, there are no butterflies. It’s not their season to be here. They’ve been gone for months. That’s why this one is so noteworthy. This one at just the moment I look out the window. A butterfly for Rebecca.
Rebecca has told us several times, “I dreamed I was running!”
September 28, 2020, Rebecca and I take communion.
This do in remembrance of Me.
It just happens to be Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement.
September 30, 2020
This is the day Rebecca is taken to the hospital. Because of her breathing Matt gives her CPR and I call 911..
Nearly 20 people come. More CPR. As they are taking her to the hospital, a paramedic says, “I think she will survive. Her heart rhythm is strong.”
October 1-6, 2020
We cannot visit her, but we Facetime her. She looks beautiful. Once her eyes are open. She looks directly at me.
October 4, 2020
The neurologist comes by. “There is no brain activity,” he says. This means she’s gone. Even though her heart is beating.<.p>
October 7, 2020
How grateful we are for Hospice—they arrange for Rebecca to come home—home to the mountains for her last physical earth moments. Noah and Nate hug their mother and say “Good-bye.” Their looks are somber and tear my heart. We gather around—Matt, Noah, Nate, Jeff and Tracy, Matt’s parents, and Adam, Matt’s brother and me.
Jacinda, Jack, their children, Abigail, Robert, Jonathan, Patrick Anabelle, Philip, Sondra and her family, Melissa and Melanie, dear friends from as long ago as high school, —they all Face Time.
We speak to Rebecca and believe she hears us. I rub her feet as I so often have done.
Psalm 121 is read:
I will lift up mine eye unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.
My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth.
After which the doctor takes the respirator out. I hold Rebecca’s right hand and Matt, her left. Her hand moves slightly in mine a few times.
We watch as she breathes on her own—around 15 minutes. Will she stay? Will she go? In silence we watch. The drama of a soul leaving her earth body for her ethereal body. So gentle is her breathing, so peaceful her departure, we cannot tell when last, she breathes. The doctor comes near,. “She passed,” he says.
Now she runs! Nothing prevents her! And, as her sister, Jacinda, says, “She flies!”
Of course, we were thinking of her being healed here in her mortal body—where we could physically see and hear her on this plane. She was healed in another way. *
Temporarily, we are in this shell—this shell which often limits us, this shell which cannot hold– which cannot prevent our consciousness and our eternal soul, from breaking free. And whether our life be long or short in earth school, it is as a vapour compared to eternity.
Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life?
It is even a vapour that appeareth for a little time,
and then vanisheth away.
Jesus told parables—stories using physical things to illustrate spiritual truth. I believe Jesus, with the Holy Spirit, still uses earthly things to illustrate eternal truths. A butterfly is an excellent illustration of breaking through a cocoon, being transformed, and flying!
I am guided to a writing by David Wilkerson. He says, “The Ultimate healing is resurrection—death is the passage, “*
Our beloved Rebecca left early. We celebrate her beautiful life.
Because of Jesus, I know we will see her again! Because of Jesus, I know she lives!
November 25, Thanksgiving:
I call Jack, my son. He is at my brother, Phil’s in Las Vegas. Phil’s wife, Michele, tells me that butterflies, in her culture are a symbol of comfort to those who’ve lost a loved one—like they are visiting you. I look on the Internet. There is much about the symbolism of butterflies.
Here’s one entry:
A white butterfly is usually viewed as a positive omen. . .Some cultures believe a white butterfly fluttering around a person means the individual will soon die. Other cultures view a white butterfly as purity and the soul of their loved one or an angel.
December 3, 2020
My steps are heavy as I walk to the mailbox. This heaviness—I wonder if it will ever go away. I am thinking of my young grandsons, Noah 12 and Nathaniel Charles 8—boys without their mother. Is Rebecca also concerned about them where she is?
At the time of her passing, Rebecca and I had been reading a book, God’s Heavenly Answers, by Dr. Joyce Brown who had had a near-death experience. Rebecca had found Dr. Joyce on the ALS website. She also had attended, by phone, several of Dr. Joyce’s prayer meetings. * *
After Rebecca’s passing, I started attending the prayer meetings—every Saturday at noon, Pacific time. I’ve also talked with Dr. Joyce privately. She said that Rebecca is peaceful—that she wants me to be—even have joy. Joy? But what about her boys? Dr. Joyce said, “She sees the end from the beginning.”
I want to believe this, but can I be sure? Because I am so concerned, wouldn’t she be? Dr. Joyce also tells me that Rebecca will tell me what she wants me to know.
For where your heart is, there will your treasure be also.
Since Rebecca is on The Other Side, I am ever more mindful of things unseen and whispers of the Spirit. My heart, my treasure is there. I believe, “We can know anything we need to know. The Holy Spirit will tell us. We must be alert to listen.” How does God tell us things? *** Especially lately, I have asked for words that will lead me to what I need to know. To do this was a suggestion by, Doug, who also had a near death experience.He’s in my story, Hurricane Floyd and Lessons of the Wind. Rebecca is in this story too. She had a dreamwhile I am at her house in Berkeley that is part of this story. And now, as I walk to the mailbox, into my spirit. this word comes, “Carousel.” I repeat it. I will be listening for that word. When I get back to the house, Nate,8, asks, “Mimi, do you want to see the park I made on my phone?” “Sure.” He proceeds to give me a guided tour. “And here is my Carousel,” he says. Carousel! Wow! The word! I don’t say anything to Nate, but I am thinking, what does it mean? I can’t think of anything—maybe it is just a word to let me know there is a Presence that knows what I will hear? It is clearly a bleed-through from the invisible world. It’s delightful and I am grateful even if this is all it means. And yet. . . December 5, 2020 Saturday morning, two days later, Matt tells of a dream he had of Rebecca. This reminds me to ask if “Carousel” means anything to him. “No, it doesn’t.” Later, I am outside with Atrick, the dog. As she roams around, up and down the hills, at times catching the ball I throw, I pray. I pray for my children. I pray for the election. Suddenly a question, “What goes round and round?” A carousel! Then I know! Before I had walked to the mailbox and heard the word “Carousel” , I had wanted to play a song, but when I tried to play it on my computer, that song and another one—from Minecraft—was playing as well. (Nate uses my computer for Minecraft.) Two songs were playing at the same time. Also, it was too loud. Noah said, “That sounds terrible!” I turned it off but felt bad that I couldn’t share it. And now “round and round”—like a Carousel. The song has these words: Are you tired of spinning round and round? “Atrick, come!” I run inside to play the song:
Are you tired of chasing pretty rainbows?
Are you tired of spinning round and round?
Wrap up all the shattered dreams of your life
And at the feet of Jesus, lay them down.
Give them all, give them all, give them all to Jesus,
Shattered dreams, wounded hearts, broken toys
Give them all, give them all to Jesus
And He will turn your sorrow into joy
He never said you’d only see sunshine
He never said there would be no rain.
He only promised a heart full of singing
At the one thing that once brought pain
Give them all, give them all
Give them all to Jesus
And He will turn your sorrow into joy.
And look! The song is full of butterflies! In the past, when I listened to this song, never did I see butterflies—always Evie, the soloist, with a group listening. Now the butterflies are another meaningful synchronicity. (Someone has said, Synchronicities are God speaking anonymously.) As I listen, I cry—that Jesus, with Rebecca, would give me such a gift! A mantra: Give it all to Jesus.
From the end of the earth will I cry unto Thee.
When my heart is overwhelmed, lead me to the Rock
that is higher than I.
Sometimes sorrow and joy hold hands.
As sorrowful, yet always rejoicing.
II Corinthians 8:10
After I told Jacinda the story above, she told me of a video she had taken of Rebecca and Nate riding a Carousel. Click above to see.
We’ve heard it said that God works in mysterious ways. It’s fascinating to listen to the Spirit—to see this invisible orchestration behind the scenes. Like clues—you know something is a message and it means something, but what? You watch and pray and listen.
Martin Buber said, “God speaks in the guise of everything that happens” ****
Howbeit when he, the Spirit of truth, is come, She will guide you into all truth:
for She shall not speak of herself; but whatsoever She shall hear,
that shall She speak, and She will show you things to come.
I love that the Holy Spirit is also called “the Comforter.”
But the Comforter, which is the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name,
She shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance,
whatsoever I have said unto you.
(in original, Holy Spirit feminine pronoun)
Andrew Murray said, “Everything in the physical is a shadow of the reality in the spirit.” This truth is expressed by many. Plato’s Theory of Forms states that the physical realm is only a shadow or image of the true reality.
For our light affliction, which is but for a moment,
worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.
While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things
which are not seen. For the things that are seen are temporal, but the things that are not seen are eternal.
II Corinthians 4:17,18
Sightings: Around six times—I’m now going to count them—where and when–I’ve seen one lone white butterfly. The last time was Christmas Day as I was talking to Tracy, Matt’s mother. When I see the butterfly, I seek to follow her with my eyes. But she is fleeting like a flash and disappearing quickly, is gone. For a moment, am I between the worlds?
As I’m thinking on these things, suddenly I remember Madame Butterfly!
“The music of this opera, Madame Butterfly, was dictated to me by God. I was merely instrumental in putting it on paper and communicating it to the public.”
My eyes are open for butterflies. Turning over the Christmas card I’ve been sending, I see a tiny little butterfly that I had missed seeing before.
Wishing you a Christmas blessed by the love that
was born so long ago.
When He calls me, I will answer:
*December10: I find this writing by David Wilkerson. Please listen to this. It’s comforting, a blessing, and answers questions. The Ultimate Healing is resurrection. Death is the passage. He has passed on—he worked with street gangs and wrote the book, The Cross and the Switchblade.
Throughout all these months of my caring for Rebecca and then staying in Topanga with Matt and the boys, I have been in communication with Ed and Charlene Knadle and their prayer ministry. My connection to Ed is through his mother, Elaine. She is my dear friend. She’s 13 years older and has passed.. They have been with me through so many challenges. It is a comfort to me to know that I can call Ed to agree with me in prayer for whatever crisis presents itself. “If two of you shall agree as touching anything. . .”
When in California, you must watch and pray regarding high winds and fire threats. This was an especially bad year for fire. The New York Times said California is a furnace. In Topanga, we had numerous answers to weather prayers.*
. A few months before I came to Topanga to be with Rebecca, I was saddened to learn that David, Ed’s son, was killed in Afghanistan November 19, 2019. For Thanksgiving my three children and eight grandchildren were in Las Vegas with my three brothers for Thanksgiving. We were principally all together for Rebecca.
December 27, 2020
There’s an oak writing table in the Mud Room where I put my computer. I can look out the window to a beautiful view as I write. This day I open the door of the Mud Room, take my journal, walk out and sit on a stump surrounded by sage and the majestic beauty of the Topanga Mountains. I feel close to Rebecca and believe we communicate. As I sit here, a thought comes to me. I write it down and text it to Ed Knadle, who prays with me:
People on The Other Side can be close to us because we sit in heavenly places.
Ed texts back:
This is a great revelation you got about heavenly places! I talk to David daily and Elaine. . .and I believe they hear me, both being in that great cloud of witnesses. . .”
. A warm feeling comes over me.
And hath raised us up together and made us sit together
in heavenly places in Christ Jesus.
You Raise Me Up So That I Might Stand on Mountains, Andre Rieu
Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses
let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us,
and let us run with patience the race that is set before us,
Looking unto Jesus. . .