Monarch or Milkweed?

A monarch butterfly traveled with me the other day. She flit from plant to plant seeking nourishment. The monarchs will soon be migrating south. I am truly amazed that these beautiful creatures ever arrive anywhere. The monarch seems to have no discernible flight pattern. It swoops, loops, glides, and floats. It does not seem to ride the thermal winds that could carry it long distances. Rather, they are buffeted by the wind; blown off course by passing vehicles; or even worse, splattered against radiator grills and windshields.
I hardly think these clumsy acrobatics speak well for the monarch butterfly. Any flying creature worthy of the title monarch should be in greater control of his or her destiny. A monarch should command the skies with the dignity and grace that royalty demands. Even migration should be accomplished with sovereign aplomb.
Is this not also true of human beings? Doesn't the Bible say that we are "as gods?" And if not, are we not just "a little lower than the angels?" Third rung from the top of the great chain of being is not too shabby. I would certainly like to believe that my life is an example of the crown jewel of creation. As such, I am lord of my future, marking the path I tread with clarity of purpose and potent use of my skills and talents. With majesty I cut a swath through the winds of opposition to achieve the purpose I am destined to command for the good of humanity.
The truth is, of course, that I am not nearly as beautiful as the monarch butterfly, nor am I any more graceful. I also have to be reminded that the monarch is also known as the milkweed butterfly. No royal bloodlines there. No heirs to the throne, just a common variety of plants whose common distinction is a white milky juice. The milkweed is the favorite food of the monarch. What is it that butterflies see in these plants is beyond my comprehension, but maybe that is what accounts for their less than graceful flights to winter homes.
I wonder what it is that accounts for our awkward, stumbling trek through life. My efforts to achieve a simple goal are often thwarted by fatigue, constant interruptions, and lack of resources. I cannot even take a shower without someone needing something. Like the milkweed butterfly I am sometimes blown off course by the gentlest breezes of opposition. And there are times when I am pulverized by even the most transparent wall of antagonism.
Monarch or milkweed, the migration of life goes on. With surprising consistency the monarchs arrive in the tropics where they are fruitful and multiply. Yes, there are casualties along the way, but so it is with every species of life. There are many who are battered and wounded, some who arrive late, and others who never survive the trip. Their dignity as a species is found in their determination to continue the journey - generation after generation. Perhaps their royal sustenance is found in the common fare of milkweed plants.
Today the church celebrates Lawrence, A Martyr in Rome, 2009