A rainy day....

It is one of those days,when everything seems perfect
but still something is not right,there are people around but you still feel alone, there is music going on but you still crave for words,and when words begin you wish silence dawns, i know its just a passing moment lingering a bit longer but then it suffocates, tears cloud the vision and when someone asks why? what? I have no reasons, does it happen?
It rained today. On my way in when I got home from school, I was loaded down with any-and-everything that had been lying around in the front seat of my car. In order to not have to make two trips through the wet, I had gathered up a hundred million pounds of books and daddy’s documents and bottles and whatever else I had brought with me this morning. As I stepped out into the downpour, I was a snowplow, a steam engine; I would not be stopped.
However.
I was.
A butterfly was perching on the side of one of the cars in our driveway, most likely trying to not get pelted in the storm. It occurred to me, for some reason, that it would probably not resist the idea of being re-located to just about anywhere. Offering my middle finger as a possible solution to the issue, I watched in complete captivation as he unhesitatingly accepted the offer.

So, for lack of any better idea as to what I'd do after having made this new friend, I tip-toed inside and set everything down on the counter to spend some time watching him open and close his wings. Eventually, after showing some family members and letting him climb up the bridge of my nose and into my hair, I watched him carry himself away. What a beautiful way to spend ten minutes of my day.
And it occurred to me.
God is like this.
You're plowing through your day, carrying everything you can possibly carry, and with plenty of things to do, but still, you see him. Like an open ended question, he's waiting in the rain. The holy spirit, when you stop to offer your hand, will lead you to somehow find yourself, all your burdens settled on some remote countertop, with you staring straight in the face of something beautiful. Spend time there, and when it is gone, the powder from its wings will still cover you.
Is this not the way he works?