Follow the Yellow Butterly

Since watching Back to the Future in May, synchronicities have been unfolding in my life—so many that I couldn’t begin to write them all down. Most would seem unrelatable, or perhaps they’re simply meant for me to understand. But there is one I feel called to share.

About a week ago, I had a dream. In it, God spoke joyfully: “Follow the yellow butterfly.” I didn’t think much of it at the time. But the very next day, I came across a post on Instagram from IANDS (the International Association for Near-Death Studies). Their post featured a big yellow butterfly, announcing the dates for their upcoming conference.

For those who don’t know, I had a near-death experience 13 years ago when I was 19. It is a story I love to share, but so far, I’ve only been able to tell it one-on-one. I’ve never felt ready to bring it to a larger audience.

Then, a few nights ago, I was working as background cast on 9-1-1 Nashville. We filmed for 12 hours, working until 2 a.m., and by the end, everyone was delirious with sleep deprivation. On the bus ride back, I happened to sit next to a man. Our conversation began with him asking about the book I was reading—Deep by James Nestor, a book about freediving. His eyes lit up as he showed me his PADI tattoo, sharing his love for scuba diving.

I wanted to tell him that freediving has been the closest feeling to my NDE—something I’ve sought ever since, through so many means, even drugs, but nothing has ever come close. Before I could say it, he told me he was writing a book. Its title? Follow the Yellow Butterfly.

I had to tell him about my dream, about my NDE. In those few minutes, half-asleep and yet deeply awake, we spoke about God and the mysteries that shape our lives. Before we parted, he looked at me and said, “I believe God wanted me to tell you that you need to write about it. In fact, a book.” Then we stepped off the bus and went our separate ways. I never caught his name. But that felt right—like he was a messenger. Because all this time, I felt I had to film my story, and that felt so daunting. But writing it? That felt like a deep exhale of relief.

Last night, I was watching 28 Weeks Later and a moment struck me. The husband leaves his wife behind because he panicked (can you blame him!?). That scene held such emotional complexity—his fear, his guilt, her terror, her forgiveness. And I realized, my story is complex too. It’s not just about what happened; it’s about forgiveness, the kind that defies logic, the kind that rises from a heart filled with God’s love.

I often wonder how to share my story with the world without having to answer every question, without over-explaining, just letting people feel the energy and the truth of it. Every time I share it one-on-one, I see how people sense that complexity and sit in awe of it.

Because the forgiveness and love in my story—it isn’t mine. It flows through me. It is God’s love, God’s forgiveness. And that is the story I want to write.