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”:

Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash

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

Photo by Suzanne D. Williams on Unsplash

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

Photo by Tim Umphreys on Unsplash

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!

Hi, my name is Mary and I am a writer of hope, sorting through the mudpuddles and rainbows of my life. I believe God can be found in all of it.
Hi, my name is Mary and I am a writer of hope, sorting through the mudpuddles and rainbows of my life. I believe God can be found in all of it.

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