Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Struggling for Wings

I can imagine how painful it must be for a caterpillar to become a butterfly, it's whole physical appearance changing. Some think the caterpillar knows it'll be beautiful when it is done and therefore focuses on the outcome instead of the pain, the change. Does it know that it will no longer need to crawl on the ground but instead will fly anywhere it pleases? Does it know that it will no longer have a limited view of the world, but see the world through different eyes? No one knows but God. It's remarkable, nonetheless, that the caterpillar knows what needs to be done and does it, perhaps without never knowing why.

Once the butterfly is ready to come out it struggles. Up until the very end it struggles. It's little body and wings making every effort to free itself from its cocoon. This struggle, to push itself out of a tiny opening is truly the last stage of its metamorphosis. It strengthens the butterfly's wings, its legs for flight. Without this struggle the change would not be complete.

Some people have this huge misconception regarding Christians. Some think that once we've proclaimed our faith we should automatically be perfect folks, no more sin, no more struggle. Once we bow down to worship our lives should be like heaven, at peace, no worries, no pain. When life continues, even for us, when struggle occurs they ask, "Where's your God now?"

However, my life B.C. was empty, even with all I had. My hands were dirty, my mouth dirty and my heart dirty, almost beating it's last beats, way too congested with all things opposite of love. I was quietly slipping away and if it weren't for that hand that gripped mine and led me to His Passion I would've sunk deeper into that darkness. His road to Calvary allowed me to understand that all my years of suffering and struggle was what He experienced in one lonely day. I recognized every step, every anguished moment and at the end when He gave up His spirit I realized that I too could give up mine, to my Father. How could one dismiss this promise, this renewing, this cleansing so that at the end of it all there is a peace?


His peace.

Isn't that what most of us are trying to acquire each and everyday?

Peace and quiet.

It doesn't happen overnight. It occurs in small steps. Whatever you can handle. Jesus has to consider that. So He gives healing in little spoonfuls.

No one gets better from a sickness from one day to the next. It takes time to get better. It also takes time to accept that you're healing, that there's a change happening within you. Some may think that's easy, but to begin a spiritual metamorphosis can be painful.


It's been quiet here. Like, in my own little heart it's been very quiet. I'm learning to slow it all down, to recognize what makes these wheels turn, to remember, not forget who's turning them.

I've been praying all day long. I've been having lengthy conversations, calm and collect, as if we were in a dark room where we needed to whisper.

I've been telling Him the things He already knows. I've been telling Him things He's been trying to coax out of me. He's been telling me things I need to hear, reversing the lies. And the more I get to see, the more I want to know.

I hunger for more love.

I feel I am on the right path but I know I'm far from done.

I'm continually changing. My heart continues to find new rhythms. My soul is purging. I'm shedding this skin. This slow process, this endeavor to become His new me, it's all for His purpose.

God is changing me into something beautiful. He's giving me delicate butterfly wings so that one day I can fly...

to Him.

God bless!

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

A Love Letter Nonetheless


I remember the many nights I had a pen to a clean sheet of paper, the words flowing like a windy day across my eyes but never getting up the nerve, too lazy or just forgetting to send it to you. I know there's so much to say. I mean, so much has happened and yet it feels like only yesterday that things began to go wrong. You would think that we know each other so well, considering how long it's been and yet I just realized how much of myself I am unaware of.

I've been talking about you, praying about you, for you. I've been crying, been angry, sad, angry again. Mostly sad though. It's a familiar sadness. I know this feeling. I used to call it loneliness. I would convince myself that I was alone and I'd start to feel sorry for myself. True, you've left me alone many times and I get it, you had things to do, a life to live and discover. You chose you after so many years with those bitter feelings of having to live and chose for someone else. You fled to a place you thought would be home and thank God you did go. I know God had His reasons for why things happened. I saw it then just as I see it now and thank God that it did happen that way.

It still hurt though. It still hurts.

But I'm not sure you know that.

I remember feeling so sad for the way your dad treated you. How insulting he was. I wanted you to go, just so you wouldn't have to endure that. I remember. I wanted to hate him. Hating is harder to feel you know. It takes a lot of energy to hate. Feelings of hate begin to rot inside you. It make breathing difficult. I've tried to hate. I felt I had a right to hate, that I was owed that much. There were many times where I was sure that hate was the feeling I had for you. It was impossible. Hate is very weak. The moment you showed me a little bit of love, my "hate" disintegrated. So I guess hate wasn't ever the answer. Point is that I love you so much I was willing to hate for you. But hate is not a language that God has written, so since that is the case, hate doesn't exist. It's just an idea. Hate can't be a true feeling.

So, rest assured. After all we've been through, I harbor no feeling of hate.

I'm learning. I'm learning to let go, learning to replace things, feelings, ideas that I longed for yet never had. I remember watching what I wanted from a distance, you looking lovingly at someone else, but never at me. I was such a disappointment in your eyes. It almost seems like when I did do good it was funny to you. Okay, I'm starting to attack. My intention here wasn't to attack you, but to find God in you. I need to be reminded that even you are a creation of His. So much hurt and pain, let-downs and disillusions, nevertheless, this is a love letter because somewhere deep in that hard exterior of yours is God Himself. I just got to keep looking for Him in you. He knows my mistakes, my grave and ugly sins. I can never hide from them or Him. He's shown me love despite all I've ever done. He's forgiven me, so therefore I have to, want to forgive you.

And for that reason, I won't give up, can't give up. I'd be betraying Him first and I love Him more than my own life let alone your feelings. I'm angry, but I guess in this anger God too is present for I know He means to guide me even through this hot emotion. Hurt and anger. But first there's God.

I love you.
You let me live.
You raised me, in your way, you did.
And I understand you did the best you could.
It was hard for you before, but I know you try now.
I won't give up on you, I can't.
You are as much a gift to me as I am to you.
And I dedicate every prayer to you, every whisper to Him your name is included.
Maybe you will change, maybe you won't. It doesn't matter.
I'll make the change instead.
I have Protection. I have a Shield.
I'll stay in battle, even if it seems I'm losing.
Although perhaps God's plans are different from my desires.
I want both you and God to know that I'll keep insisting for you...
even after our hearts stop beating,
because I've been told that death is not the end,
but I pray that things don't come to that.
I love you no matter what has occurred
and I give thanks to God for helping me reach this hour to see it His way.

The Lord be with you.

God bless!