I hope this story encourages you as it did me

About three months after Nathan died, feeling broken and teetering on deep despair, I went to the Prince of Peace Abbey to walk, pray and write.  As I was walking up a hill, in my mind’s eye, I saw a picture of my son running towards me, his big smiling face looking at me. Following that vision, I saw about fifteen to twenty actual monarch butterflies, fly right towards me.  That day, I knew that butterflies were going to be a sign for me from God, that Heaven, where my son lives now, is near to me. That means that he is near me. God is near me.  From that time on, I saw a lot of butterflies at my house, when I had never seen them there before, and at the most random, crazy times, when I need to be reminded and comforted.

Two weeks ago, I went to Agua Verde, Mexico, right to where my son was caught.  This is a very remote place; a long and most difficult and treacherous drive; narrow mountainous road , cliffs and scary turns, but breathtakingly beautiful- the green water surrounded by islands in the Sea of Cortez.

Once we arrived to the exact spot my son would set up camp on the beach, I began to walk, cry, and pick up shells imagining they were there, when my son was there. I cried out to God out loud, asking Him, begging Him for a sign. I needed to feel close to my son. I wanted Nathan to see me there, where he loved, with who he loved, in Mexico. I wanted him so badly to know I was there, on that beach. I was needing something. I was needing to feel close to him and my God.  As I looked out to the green water, I talked to Nate, telling him how proud I am of who he is, and that I love that he loved  Mexico, the ocean, nature, and all he would see being there.

I walked back to where my and Nathan’s friends, Kika and Andres, were sitting.  They had taken me there that day, and they  loved and knew my son since he was in diapers. They were like parents to him. Without speaking, they grabbed the flowers and candle they bought that morning,  and walked back to Nate’s camp, and where his body was brought to shore on June 3, 2015.  I don’t speak Spanish and they don’t speak English. Without a plan or conversation, about who’s doing what, we begin to build a memorial for my son, with rocks and shells, right next to where Nate would make his fires and cook the fish he would catch.  We were building piece by piece, feeling this crazy rhythm of unity, and a sort of expectation, with tears in our eyes.  Next thing I know, Andres and Kika were gathering shells, and I began to write my son’s name in the sand.  After we were done, they prayed in Spanish.  I then asked if I could pray. I prayed and asked God again for a sign.

“Please God, I need to feel you. Something.”

As I opened my eyes, I looked at the memorial and there circling right above it, was one, beautiful monarch butterfly.  He was slowly, peacefully swirling  around it, and then between the three of us and then simply flew away. We all gasped!!! “Mariposa, Mariposa….. Butterfly!!!!”

Our hearts leaped! We felt something even more than the butterfly being there!  If you could of seen our faces, the sheer joy!!! I can try to articulate this, but it felt Holy, Heavenly, LIFE, Holy Spirit!!!  I excitedly started pointing to the monarch butterfly that I have tattooed on my arm,( which they had no clue about me and butterflies.) We all grabbed each other, cried, jumped up and down, and then started laughing, as we looked up to Heaven. Our hands up towards the sky,  “HI NATE”!!!  I repeatedly said with tears and laughter, “Gracias, mi Papa!!”  We stood there, absolutely in awe, knowing full well that Heaven is close. That we are close to God, Heaven and Nathan! We were in awe. We all knew!  We couldn’t explain it, or control it, or figure it out with language, but we knew that Heaven had come down to earth for us!!!!

We stayed there in that holy place, looking at each other, than up to to the sky, laughing and crying for about ten more minutes. We wanted to soak up every second. With big smiles and tears of thankfulness, we packed up our things, got back in the car, and started the long trek out of Agua Verde, but this time, giggling and smiling the entire drive back.

God answered my cry. He heard my prayer.  He gave me a moment of heaven, of closeness to my son. A sign that Heaven is near to me all the time.

I also heard my heavenly Father say so tenderly, “Sheri, you see dimly. You can’t see, but I am near you.  Heaven is closer than you know. It always is.”