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?
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...