The Butterfly Girls

Ever encounter a puppy delirious with the sheer joy of seeing you?

The puppy will bark and quiver and roll on the floor and wag and wiggle and bark and leap on you and express utter exuberance just because you are there.

The three young women who visited my home Monday morning reminded me of a trio of such happy puppies. The enthusiastic girls plan to start their own publishing company, Butterfly Books, they hope to have it up and running by mid July, and they’d come to see me to explain their project and ask about the process of publishing startup.

Here’s a picture of their initial logo:

Apparently, Julie, Patsy and Helen, my daughter in law, came to see me solely because I’m Donald’s father. All attend the same church. When they realized that I’ve written some stuff, they got the idea I might be of some use.

Good Heavens but they’re a peppy crew!

They bubbled and gushed and talked over one another, caught up in the pleasure of talking about their project. They envision an initial press run of 2,000 copies and speaking tours and book signings and tv appearances and spreading their message all over the country.

And their message is important.

These young women have suffered, endured and survived the devastating circumstances endemic to young women of our generation. Their testimonies will resonate with thousands of other girls overwhelmed by choice and circumstance. Abused, violated and abandoned, the authors these women have collected to work with them range from a pastor’s wife, a former exotic dancer, a formidable career woman, a wealthy socialite—all sharing the joy of deliverance and new life through the mercy of Jesus Christ.

Peppy. Peppy. Peppy—walking and leaping and praising God.

That’s them.

And then there’s me.

John Cowart, human manatee. Propeller scars on my back. Here in Florida, the waters abound with manatees, sometimes called sea cows. The fat, sluggish vegetarians have no natural enemies but speedboats. The slow creatures cruise just below the surface and boats run over them chewing propeller slashes in their backs. Naturalists identify individual manatees by the pattern of propeller scars on the animals’ backs.

So here I am. Minding my own business. Not bothering anybody. Moseying along at my own speed. I starts slow, then I tapers off… Then here come Christian ladies on jet skis. Wildly enthusiastic about Jesus, about deliverance, about life, about youth and dreams and plans and visions of their own world-wide Christian publishing empire.

As best I can tell, they have one book’s text actually written, one partially written, and two waiting in the wings.

Dower. Sour. Morose and moss-covered, I meet this mighty rushing wind of Christian femininity in my own living room. They are hellbent on publishing; I’m just hellbent.

You know, they say a pessimist is just an optimist with experience.

Yet I do not wish to quench the Spirit enlivening these young women. I want to caution them about all the sharks in the publishing waters without hindering their spirit.

The words of King Solomon occur to me: “Of making many books there is no end; and much study is a weariness of the flesh. Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God, and keep his commandments: for this is the whole duty of man. For God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing , whether it be good, or whether it be evil”.

I’m all too familiar with the “Weariness of the flesh” phrase in this verse.

But these ladies have great experience in marketing books. They bounce. And one of the things they bounced on was my shortcomings in sales. They began to develop an all encompassing plan for my life. They expound all sorts of ideas to help me achieve success as a writer.

And when I balked, they accuse me of being a fearful coward , of not trusting God, of betraying my gifts, and of being prideful in false humility.

They are probably right on all counts.

They quoted Joshua at me—strong, good courage, battle manfully, all that crap.

One said she thought God had led them to my house, apparently to straighten me out.

Could be.

But here’s an ongoing problem I have:

I can’t tell the difference between a temptation and an opportunity.

Are all these marketing ploys the ladies talked about temptations to lure me away from writing; or are they indeed an opportunity to speak about Christ to a larger audience?

Of course the only question I really need to ask is “Lord, what will Thou have me to do?”.

These women had made the appointment and came to me asking for help—now they saw flaws in my life-process and were offering to help me… and they were much more gracious about it than I make it sound.

Nevertheless, I cringed.

Writing books and selling books are two different disciplines.

One of the women has worked in the past with well-known established religious publishers.

I asked, “Why do you want to start your own Christian publishing company when so many well-established ones already exist, and you already have access to some of the major ones”?

“This is something God has given us,” one said.

In the face of the girl’s enthusiasm and child-like confidence, I recalled that section of Psalm 68:

“But let the righteous be glad ; let them rejoice before God: yea, let them exceedingly rejoice Sing unto God, sing praises to His name: extol Him that rideth upon the heavens … and rejoice before Him.

“A father of the fatherless, and a judge of the widows, is God in his holy habitation. God setteth the solitary in families: He bringeth out those which are bound with chains: but the rebellious dwell in a dry land. …

“Thou, O God, didst send a plentiful rain, whereby thou didst confirm thine inheritance, when it was weary .

“Thy congregation hath dwelt therein: thou, O God, hast prepared of thy goodness for the poor.

“The Lord gave the word: great was the company of those that published it”.

But isn’t the market flooded with religious books?

No.

A Christian writer competes with no one else; we each seek our own place in God’s scheme of things, and no other person on earth can fill the niche God has for me alone.

The praises of the Slain and Risen Lamb echo from every tribe and tongue and nation. As St. John observed at the end of his Gospel after he told how Jesus rose from being dead, “There are also many other things which Jesus did , the which, if they should be written every one, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that should be written”.

Meeting these young women made me feel like a dew drop caught in a cloudburst!

For some God’s salvation comes as silently, as imperceptibly as dew forming on blades of grass; for others God enters life in a cloud of dust and the pounding of hooves and a shout of Hi Yo, Silver Away!!

I met these women—and suddenly I feel aswirl in a Christian version of Girls Gone Wild!