Butterfly

Stretching- pushing across and above and beyond. Stretching and begging for more room. When the time is accomplished, the pushing and stretching gives way to tearing, the tight cocoon walls tear and the first bit emerges. The first part of the butterfly to come out is covered in goo. It is slimy and fragile. It is far from beautiful.
I can almost hear it begging to break out. If butterflies speak to the Lord, I’m sure there is a time of desperation. A moment, or perhaps two for the more impatient, when the half formed creature screams out to its creator “Free me! I need to feel the air rolling off my wings.” A moment of fear that the current state is the permanent state, a moment when the stretching becomes almost panicked, or is there? If butterflies speak to the Lord, maybe they know that the time of transformation is required. Maybe they have a faith even clearer than that of child. Maybe they have laid down the need to know what happens next and simply trust that no matter how tight the chrysalis seems, there is freedom to be enjoyed- a freedom that transcends every circumstance-a freedom that sings of the Father’s love so loudly and surely that there is no reason for panic.

Butterflies seem so fragile. Their beauty is delicate. It cannot hold up for long or against difficult circumstances. At least that is how it seems at first. Then the slow realization dawns that these tiny creatures travel many, many miles each day. These tiny fragile creatures float on the wind. They soar and dip and dance on invisible air streams over amazing distances. There is nothing weak in their fragility.

Women appear fragile. We spend hours bending and stretching and begging for a different shape or a different look. As young teenagers we look at the other girls around us and wish we were them. As young mothers we look at the other mothers and wonder why our lives are so hard and theirs is so easy. Always, always we are comparing ourselves. We measure our success in terms of our relationships to others. We cry when we’re frustrated. We cry when our bodies refuse to be whatever it is we want right then. We cry and we appear fragile. We are not fragile.

We are the beloved creations of our Father. He has created each of us to be a wonderful person. He has given us our children because no one else will raise them the way we will. He has given us our trials because He knows how we will respond. He has chosen to give us a strength that mirrors that of the butterfly. The strength that appears weak but can do amazing things through Him.

He commands sometimes that we wait. He says “not yet”. For the more impatient of us, these times are more painful than the moment when the butterfly is breaking free. Our strength though lies in knowing that He will remove the walls. He will remove the walls, make us beautiful, and set us free. Free to fly on the wind, free to love, free to dance, free to worship our Lord and Savior who loved us enough to redeem us and remake us.

I love to watch the butterflies.