I love my yard. When we moved in, it was completely void of life, a barren block of hard clay. I’m in awe of how it now teams with butterflies and birds because we planted flowers to draw them in. Life that cannot be caged or hindered. Life that literally sings over me as I am still.

My favorite parts of my yard are the milkweed plants. These are the only plants on which the monarch butterflies lay their eggs. When we planted the new bushes, I couldn’t wait for the butterflies to float through and realize the bushes were here. I waited and waited. In the waiting there was evidence of their coming even when I had not see them. Caterpillar eggs hatched and began to eat their way to maturity even before my eyes noticed their existence. New life had begun and I never saw it coming.

When I saw this happening, I began to search the yard every couple of hours for wayward caterpillars. At one point we counted at least thirty on the bushes, so I thought I could maybe save some. I found eight in two days. I created two habitats in large vases with cuttings of milkweed and set them on my coffee table. After they had consumed the plants, they slowed their activities and began their journey. What a magnificent event to watch. Their plump two inch bodies at first hung in the shape of a J. Then, they turned green, and in a matter of a few hours formed a beautiful jade, glittery-gold, perfect chrysalis.

And more waiting ensued. Every day I observed them, wondering when their shroud would turn black in anticipation of their arrival. Days passed with no sign of movement. Then one morning, I noticed that the cocoons had turned colors and today was the day of rebirth. I waited and waited, then decided to do a few things around the house, and I missed the first one hatch. I missed it!  Its wings were still folded as it hung upside down. An unstoppable miracle. Dead to its former self only to emerge in grace as a new creature.

I was determined not to miss the others. So, I sat and waited until they began to quiver and in a matter of seconds each popped out and began to unfurl. As its wings began to fill, the paper thin reminder of what it had to go through remained as evidence. It had to struggle in order to unfurl its wings to prepare for flight. Wings which bellowed with more fullness with each pump. New life … a reminder that God’s mercies are new each day.

In my own life, the waiting is often long. Some days hold so much grief and uncertainty that I can scarcely breathe. Waiting that will eventually leave me changed, hopefully as a better version of myself, but so very heavy to endure. Each day lingers with unanswered questions. Trust hangs in the balance and fights against what I know and what I don’t understand. And while I wish I knew the purpose, I know God has created time as a protection for me as I could not possibly handle all of life’s events in one sitting.

I wish I could handle it better. I internalize too much and this has proven to be very hard on my heart. But, so many changes in so little time leave me weary. So, for now I try to keep my eyes on today and do what I can. And that’s all. I want to feel normal again. I want to experience carefree joy. I want to not worry about what these changes mean for our future. Changes which will usher in a new way of living, whether I asked for it or not, it bursts forth and cannot be stopped.

It makes me think of that chrysalis. Why did it sparkle in its shell while no glitter remains on this new creature? Why did God adorn it so as it died to itself during the waiting? It’s like God put a golden crown on its head as it transformed in expectation. Perhaps, He did this to remind me that there is beauty in the waiting, only to be completely transparent before it blossoms in newness.

There is new life in accepting what I cannot change. There is freedom for my heart and mind. Yes, I have fought it, and I will probably still fight it at times, but eventually I have to accept all of what this means. No, I still don’t understand the timing of it or why it’s happening. I’m not sure I ever will, but I have to trust that God in His infinite wisdom knows what He’s doing. Twice this week I have been reminded of Zephaniah 3:17 which states, “The Lord your God is in  your midst, the Mighty One, will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing.” I can barely sing myself, yet He is singing over me. In the stillness of my home, He is right here. 

I’m assuming that you may have had some very hard times where you don’t see why God is allowing what is happening. I certainly have and some days I think it is very unfair to have to do this again after I have already endured so much. I don’t know if you feel that way, too? But I know in the depth of my heart, whatever change comes we are never alone. We are held in the arms of an everlasting God who allows us to eventually see how He has orchestrated every detail of our lives as He unveils brand new beauty.

I was able to release most of the butterflies.. Determination. Exquisite details. Fragility in motion. Freedom. Some, however, died and regardless of how hard I tried, I could not save them. At one point I went to throw away the dead milkweed plants from my indoor habitat and when I looked past the dead cocoons, I found five tiny caterpillars ready to eat!. New life among the dead. Such a reminder that even though I may not see it in the midst of my circumstances, new life is emerging and cannot be stopped. There is freedom in looking past what we think our lives should look like and accepting the life that remains.

Nothing is hidden. Nothing is missed. Nothing is without purpose. Nothing will keep Him from accomplishing His mighty work in us… if we only allow ourselves to be changed.