Butterflies

Homeschooling is amazing. The world is your classroom instead of the classroom being your world. I (Jerry) just usually see the highlights, but recently the girls had a fantastic project we could all observe. A kit came with a jar of caterpillars and a gel at the bottom for them to feed on.
The caterpillars swelled over a two week period from barely visible to large, juicy, hairy wrigglers. Then they climbed up the jar and attached to the lid. They shook and shook, stopped, then shook some more. Over the period of several days, they finished their chrysalis.
Then all was still for a long time. Then one by one new creatures emerged. They looked quite different and had beautiful wings - useless at first, but they held them up for a while as they dried into something capable of carrying their body through the air.
What really amazed me, however, was that not all the butterflies emerged. In fact, the instructions with the kit say it is normal for several caterpillars to not make the transformation.
I thought of myself, especially my courage. My thoughts of butterflies always assumed it was a natural progression for a caterpillar. I never thought of the risk. Could I allow myself to go into an unconscious state in a cocoon with the hope of emerging a brand new incredible flying being, knowing that at the same time this might be my very last breath?
I also think of Jesus’ poignant observation: “...whoever loses his life will preserve it.” I confess, I want Jesus to transform me, but I don’t like to think about the risk too much. The analogy breaks down with the bullet proof guarantee given by God. I won’t die in the cocoon. The transformation will happen, but I have to be ready to give up everything.
So, let me slip into a silken mummy bag of sorts. Everything is out of my control except to trust that God knows what he is doing. When I open my eyes, what will fill my vision? Wait and see, wait and see together.