Seeing ourselves in the beauty around us
Have you ever seen a Monarch butterfly and a caterpillar side by side? I wonder what the conversation would be. I wonder if the butterfly would be telling the caterpillar about when she, herself, was just a caterpillar. I wonder if she remembers her beginnings.
And what about the caterpillar, would she be in awe? Would she believe that one day she would be flying and eating sweet nectar and not bound to the earth munching on leaves?
I was thinking this as I still struggle somewhat with sleeping, not having quite found the right concoction that will not only allow me to fall asleep, but also keep me asleep.
How much faith does it take to just close our eyes and keep them closed? How much does it take to open our eyes and keep them open?
“Herein is our love made perfect, that we may have confidence in the day of judgment, that as he is, so are we in this world.” (1 John 4:17 AKJV)
Does an atheist want to believe in nothing? Is it easier to close his eyes to the simplicity of a plan that allows him the freedom to have wings in his spirit?
What about me as a believer? Am I not the same when I don’t choose to see that I am as Christ in this present world?
Back in December of 2013, I found a poem I wrote. It was a moment where my eyes were opened and I was seeing hope in between my blinking. I just called it “My Happy Poem”:
I think I will write happy
I have to move away
From conflicts and repression
Into a brighter day
It’s true I found some words
To express what in me grew
I never wrote without resolve
And yes it helped me through
But underneath the layers
Of all that people see
There is a chrysalis within
That is the real me
The caterpillar won’t grow his own
It sheds her skin until
The only thing that’s seen
Is the chrysalis within
A shell is formed around it
To protect while it transforms
The cells break down in secret
Till the butterfly is born
And then emerges beauty
And once she finds her wings
She never does look back
To yearn for former things
Each one is at a different stage
So patient we must be
Until the layers are stripped away
And all that’s left to see
Is the shell that’s so protecting
As God performs His plan
Of creating a beautiful butterfly
That will never leave His hand
Oh, believer in Christ, you have wings. I have wings. Not that we can see. Not as angels, no, not as the birds or the butterfly. We are as Christ, even as we are growing to be as Christ. It is the mystery of godliness.
Let us let hope open our eyes and keep them open. There is a promised day coming where we all will stand before Him. He wants us to stand unashamed and in His reflection.
To myself, may I always believe that I am the butterfly and it is just a matter of time before I shed this skin and fly!