We’ve been raising a butterfly for the last few weeks. Brenda Hartsell shared photos of a monarch from her garden that she took care of and offered us a caterpillar, when she discovered another one (I asked if she might!). It was fun to watch it do its thing. I hadn’t watched a butterfly like that since I was in elementary school for a class project. We kept it in butterfly weed, and it never wandered off. It made its chrysalis and went dormant for a while. Fascinatingly, there were spots on the green chrysalis that turned from yellow to shiny gold. Earlier this week, it emerged, transformed into a butterfly.

This reflection isn’t going to be the standard reflection on transformations, however. Because the butterfly struggled to hold onto the branches and sticks where it hatched, and while its wings were still wet it fell. Donna eventually saw it, stuck by its wet wings, and helped it grasp a branch and get back up onto vegetation. As it continued to dry out and stretch its wings, it became apparent that its wings were now bent, and they haven’t straightened out. It has tried to fly several times, and it always lands on the floor.  

Earlier this week, before I knew the wings wouldn’t straighten out, I used the butterfly experience for a staff reflection at our weekly staff meeting. I noted how there are things in our lives that are times of liminality, or in-between times. There are periods where things in our lives are in flux. What and who we are gives way during a time of trial or wandering or struggle, and at the end of it, something new is born; hopefully something beautiful. Yet beautiful is not perfect. Not by a long shot.  

This butterfly on my counter is undoubtedly beautiful. It is striking in its coloration and delicate in its construction. I still can’t figure out how it went from caterpillar to what we see now. It’s breathtaking to ponder. But it’s not perfect. Its wings are bent, and it can’t fly. Certainly not what I expected, and no doubt not what the caterpillar expected. (Do caterpillars have expectations? I don’t know…) It’s still beautiful, and it still offers a glimpse of what is possible in this crazy world God set in motion. Flying, however, will not be a part of its life. On one level, that’s just heartbreaking. On another, it’s merely the way it is.

The most helpful thing for me is the reminder that the transformation process doesn’t always have clean edges and perfect outcomes. Our little butterfly is more like the rest of real life. Not all of our challenges transform into a beautiful soaring new life. Sometimes survival is the high point. Sure, we transform and grow, but we are never assured that things will be easy or ideal either. There are seasons in life where being able to walk is not seen as a failure, but seen as a solid win. Flying would be nice, but waking up is gift enough. And life is beautiful on its own, full stop. We may have to work to find the blessings mixed with trials, to seek the light in the darkness, and the grace in second, third, or even twentieth changes. But they are there. I promise. 

Tom+

Gracious God, the comfort of all who sorrow, the strength of all who suffer: Let the cry of those in misery and need come to you, that they may find your mercy present with them in all their afflictions; and give us, we pray, the strength to serve them for the sake of him who suffered for us, your Son Jesus Christ, our Lord.  Amen.        BCP p. 279