This morning as I was walking out to my car, I saw a skittish movement in the grass. When I looked down, it was a butterfly; a truly beautiful butterfly, who couldn't quite get off the ground. You see the bottom half of his right wing was missing, and the top half had several small holes in it. The sight of it was so jarring; this beautiful, crippled creature could hardly hop, much less fly. At one point, he made it as high as my knees before crashing back down.
I had to leave to get to work, but I haven't been able to get that picture out of my head. I whispered "Good luck" as I past it, and I went on my way.
I feel like I react that way to far too many problems. I see, I'm moved, I "send happy thoughts", and then I go on about my day. Am I ever going to escape this chrysalis of indifference? When am I going to act? I don't know; the whole thing just left me feeling... insufficient. Which, I suppose, can be a good thing. No matter how much we do, there is always more to be done, so we should never feel like "good deeds" can be scratched off of the To-Do list. It has to always be there, which means in some measure, always feeling like our gifts are insufficient.
I know that seems morbid; the whole post seems morbid this morning. But I actually mean it to be somewhat encouraging... even if I could not eloquently express that...