Do Moths Dream?
A fanciful morning with the Maker and a very still guest.
This morning, I came out on the deck to enjoy the quiet that nourishes the soul — that kind of stillness when nature is waking and singing to the Maker. Cool and still. Like the times before it all fell apart, when the Maker walked with us in the cool of the day, exchanging stories and insights with his beloved ones, exploring and listening to us as we did him.
So there I was, enjoying his re-creation of the new day, when I looked at the wall of our home — a stucco of white — and noticed what looked like a divot. But the symmetry of the outline was too precise for that. Getting nearer, it began to look like mud, or a sliver of tree bark. Then, right up on it: a perfectly still moth, pressed against the wall.
It was clear this little creature was made to blend in on any nearby tree. But this morning, it seemed it had landed just for me.
Even now I look up from the page to see if it has moved.
It has not.
It’s either sleeping or dead, from what I can tell.
I don’t know much about moths. But the stillness is what has captured me. The seeming lack of consciousness this creature is exhibiting has captivated me. When I go unconscious, I dream — so why not a moth?
And if we follow this thread of fanciful, childlike wonder: what is playing on the screen of this moth’s subconscious?
Allowing my imagination to run a bit, I picture a tiny GoPro strapped to its back, and the gigantic world it inhabits flitting by — jumps and starts, branches and bark, leaves and light, all viewed from this tiny perspective. Dodging birds. Avoiding zappers. Poor Louis got too close to that UV stick and exploded. Cats, more birds, a day full of exploration.
No wonder it’s resting now on the wall of my house, allowing me this fanciful moment of imagination and joyful wonderment.
Thank you, little moth, for landing here.
And above all — thank you, Maker of all that is, for this blissful start to a day of wandering with you.
Turning Inward
When did you last allow yourself to be stopped by something small and seemingly insignificant?
What would it look like today to follow a thread of childlike wonder rather than the morning’s agenda?
Where in your life is the Maker using something ordinary — even still, even quiet — to capture your attention?
What does it mean to you that the Maker walked with his beloved ones in the cool of the day — and still does?
Today’s Kingdom Artifact
A moth on a white stucco wall, perfectly still, wings pressed flat — built for bark and branch, yet resting here. A tiny ambassador of wonder, granting one unhurried man a moment of delight before the day begins. The Maker’s economy is astonishing: he needs nothing more than this to remind us he is near, he is playful, and he is paying attention.
Being surprised by awe is a daily honor if one is open to it. This morning, two robins appeared on my front porch and just sat there and looked at the world as it passed by.