One of the most fascinating occurrences in all of God’s creation happens inside a tiny bean-shaped pod.
A fuzzy “worm” that has, thus far, spent her life crawling slowly on her belly, sprouts magnificent wings and take flight. It’s nothing short of miraculous.
But metamorphosis is not the first change this creature had to undergo. First, a tiny seed produces the caterpillar. Then, some time later, her hormones surge and her outer coating separates from her body, creating a chrysalis. Finally, her body releases enzymes that dissolve cells in the insect’s muscles and organs, leaving behind only the most vital life-supporting cells: her brain and central nervous system.
All that is left of her former self — floating in a capsule of deconstruction.
Because the undoing must happen before the becoming.
At this point, a group of specialized cells called imaginal discs start to work, building a brand new body, complete with wings. Hidden from view, becoming new.
Some time later, the mostly-new creature begins the struggle to emerge. Her cocoon has become restrictive and binding, like a tightly wound tourniquet. She feels hidden and unseen. One might even say she is stuck.
Mercy would release her from her prison, right? Surely she’s been through enough! Besides, her pain is beginning to cause onlookers to feel uncomfortable. Set her free and we can all move on!
But here’s the truth about butterflies: the struggle is necessary in order to gain the strength to fly.
If our butterfly friend were to be cut free from her cell, she would spend the rest of her very brief life crawling around on the ground, dragging her swollen, under-formed wings behind her. She would never feel the wind beneath her or soar to new heights. You see, the tourniquet is there to protect her while she builds the strength she needs for the next part of her journey.
And here’s the truth about us, friend.
It is mercy that allows the struggle, knowing it is necessary for our sanctification. Our waiting seasons, in God’s hands, are preparation. Our wrestling becomes a weight room and our pain becomes a purpose. It may be miserable to endure, and it may be uncomfortable to watch, but beneath the surface, hidden from view, the spectacular is taking place.
There is nothing in creation more fascinating than that which occurs inside the heart of a human surrendered to Jesus. Yet, much undoing must take place in the becoming of who we were created to be. And that takes time.
But when a fully surrendered woman of God finally emerges, she is not just changed; she is completely transformed into something new.
Something far better. Displaying His glory. Made to soar.
And that is nothing short of miraculous.
The undoing must precede the becoming.
Be not conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.
Romans 12:2