I've been visiting a new church. The tangible example of change (aka
"repentance") in yesterday's message was the caterpillar who is reduced
to mush inside the chrysalis. (I do believe I've already survived the
mush stage...) In the case of the caterpillar, once the metamorphosis is
complete and the butterfly emerges from the chrysalis, there is no
going back. There is no more caterpillar. The caterpillar is gone. It
is, in other words, dead. At least dead to being a caterpillar. It was
never meant remain a caterpillar, but to die to it's original life in
order to gain something new. The to butterfly was never intended to
remain on the ground. It was destined for the sky.
The church I'm visiting is different from any of the churches I've been to in the past, and yet much the same as well. I am appreciative of fresh perspectives, new insight, and renewed hope. Holding onto faith has been difficult the past eight years, and it is in this vein that I am ever so grateful for a God who holds His children when we are not strong enough to hold on ourselves. (Perhaps it is true that we are never strong enough... ) I am hopeful that I will soon read scripture without the tinted glasses that clouded my vision for so long, and that it will be, maybe for the first time, unimaginably clear. The stories will not be new, but perhaps seen with new eyes and deeper meaning.
The butterfly can't go back and I can't go back either. I was meant for something more.
I hope you don't mind metaphors, to go along with the metamorphosis taking place in me. I feel a little bit like a Methuselah generation butterfly because I felt like mush forever. (I'm sure they spend at least a week or two longer inside their
chrysalis because I had one hanging on my swing set for a little over
three weeks once.
here and
here) My wings might not be completely dry but I haven't dropped to the floor yet either. Here's hoping my wings are straight and strong.
