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Kelly Tooman

The Butterfly House-Whispers on Wings

Updated: Mar 13, 2020

I had my bone scans on Tuesday and now it was Friday without a word. Having not heard anything was a partial relief as I held onto hope, but on another hand, a terrible heaviness to carry. Those results would determine if the cancer was Stage 3 or Stage 4. I would later learn that the surgeon's office knew the results but only called if the news was bad. What?? Inexcusable to put a patient though such stress.


I found comfort remembering my recent visit to Dr. Keith Jordan, founder of Optimal Wellness Center in Lakewood, Ohio. Dr. Jordan heals on a physical, spiritual and soul level, in ways that medicine cannot. This was one of the many visits I would have with him to restore my body and spirit to its natural harmonic state. I knew that in order to truly heal from cancer, I had to plunge deeper than the physical.



As he placed his hand over my body, Dr. Jordan intuitively sensed the cancer was contained in the area of the breast and lymph nodes. No further. I had worked with Dr. Jordan in the past and trusted him. Yet, fear of the unknown would continue to be my battle in those early days. As I would later find from my scan results, Dr. Jordan was right.


I was going to try and enjoy my weekend. On Saturday, my friend Bill and I drove to his father’s home outside of Toledo. The fast meadows and open landscapes comforted me. As I leaned out the windows, like a happy pup, and breathed in the country air, I felt my body finally start to relax. I was learning to enjoy being in the moment, something I always found difficult.

This journey was going to be emotional for Bill. His father had died over a year ago and he was going back to his recently sold childhood home to pick up the last remnants of his past. I wanted the focus to be on him, not me.


But Bill, being the generous man that he is, wanted to do something that made me happy. I love butterflies, and he surprised me by pulling into the driveway of the Butterfly House in Whitehouse, Ohio. Just that morning I had been drawn to wearing something I had not touched in years-a butterfly shirt.

We wandered into the humid sanctuary where butterflies flittered and swirled around the tropical plants. Magical. If you have ever doubted the presence of God’s hand in creation, look closely at the intricate beauty of butterfly wings. I had been in butterfly rooms such as these before where it was common for a butterfly to swoop down and land on someone. But not here. We waited and watched as the butterflies gracefully dove and danced around the visitors, never once landing on a human.


As much as I tried to keep fear of my situation at bay, it lingered in the dark shadows. I silently prayed that if I was going to be healed, that a butterfly land on me. About 10 minutes later, Bill excitedly ran up to me and asked if I had seen what happened. Not knowing what I had prayed, he was shocked that a butterfly had landed on ME.


From that point forward, the butterfly became my reminder of God’s answer. In almost every instance that I had momentary doubt I was going to be okay, a butterfly or a symbolic representation, would make its presence known. I would smile and remember I was going to live. Like the stages of a cocoon, this period of darkness would lead to my greatest transformation.







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