Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: Iris (04/17/25)
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TITLE: Hiding Place | Previous Challenge Entry
By Lynae Fisher
04/23/25 -
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I paused. I had heard if you touch a butterfly’s wings, it could never fly again. Rubbing my chin, I thought for a moment. I could not leave the poor thing there lest a bird make a quick snack of it. After briefly considering the matter, I covered the butterfly with a pot so no one would see it.
All day, I tended the beautiful insect and kept it safe from predators. Yet evening came and it was no better. The poor thing could not fly —could not find shelter or food. I must do something.
As gently as I could, I took the butterfly in my hand and carried it, looking for a place to hide her. I passed the twisted swinging tree and exited the gate. Honeysuckle sent wafted out to me. Still, I walked on.
Then a thought came to me.
There at the edge of the lions’ lair were many magnificent flowers. Their beauty and scent blocked the horrendous odor of old, leftover carcasses stashed away from the lions’ dinner.
I searched the scene for the perfect bloom; one that would best harbor my new found friend. At last, I chose one particularly splendorous purple Iris. Placing the butterfly in the center on the blossom, I wrapped the petals around the injured insect. There my friend would be safe until the morning’s light. The nectar from the Iris would provide food and drink for my little friend. It would have all it needed in the secret place of the Iris’ arms at the border of the lions’ lair.
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The next morning, I rushed out to see how my little friend fared. She was gone! As I scouted around the premises, I saw her —flying! Sure, she struggled a little, likely missing some hairs from her wings due to my handling of her. Yet she was alive, and she was flying once more. She had found healing in the shelter of the Iris at the edge of the lion’s lair.
Sometimes, I too am weary, injured, and broken. Like my little butterfly friend, I am too weak to fly. Yet there is a refuge where I find all I need to fly again. There I am safe. There I can find sustenance to rise up strong again. There I have all I need, ‘in the Secret Place of the Most High’ and ‘under the Shadow of the Almighty.’
Though many beautiful flowers remind me of the promises of God’s Word, the Iris reminds me of the power of the Great Physician. He who can heal a broken butterfly can heal His broken child.
Psalms 91:1-2 (KJV) “He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the LORD, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust.”
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