My best friend Shannon and I strapped everything I owned to the roof of my red Mazda and hit the road—I-35 North, saying goodbye to Houston for good. I’d never lived anywhere else, but in 17 hours, I’d start my new life in Boulder, Colorado. While Shannon drove, I gazed out the window, hoping to glimpse a sign from God that this was the right move. All I saw was a blur of familiar places I was leaving behind.
In Houston, I had a great job at a nonprofit and a community of close friends. But the Rocky Mountains called my name. I’d often visited my grandparents in Denver and my college roommate in Boulder. Up there, nature wasn’t smothered by skyscrapers and billboards. On my last visit, I hiked through Chautauqua Park, thinking about making Colorado my permanent home. I didn’t want to mess up my entire life by making the wrong decision. I sat on a rock, looked up at the clear blue sky and prayed. Please give me a sign, God…
Just then, a butterfly flew by. An orange and black monarch, looping all around me. Was this my sign? I wasn’t so sure. I needed something so big that it would leave me with no doubts. If the butterfly lands on my shoulder, maybe. I held my hand steady for a perfect resting place, but the butterfly fluttered away.
Still, in the months to follow, every time I saw a butterfly around Houston, I thought of Colorado. Maybe I had to spread my wings and take a leap of faith. Sign or no sign.
Shannon and I made it through Dallas and most of Oklahoma. I stopped looking out the window after a while and buried my nose in a book.
“What are all those things ahead?” Shannon said.
I glanced up. In the distance, the sky was filled with a large swarm of… something. Locusts? Dragonflies? A moment later, we were surrounded by them: my sign from God.
Monarch butterflies, hundreds of thousands of them dancing through the air, migrating home. They welcomed us to Colorado, now my home too.
