Morning Flight

"Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing, you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect." Romans 12:2

metamorphoo (greek)-'transformed by the renewing of your mind'

metamorphosis

She sits in the car speaking of painted ladies as we make our way to a release...

"Monarchs, Muffins, and Moms"...they are not monarchs she proclaims; they are the species painted ladies...

Painted ladies...yes, I know that species far too well for in my caterpillar state there is much self-painting. Strokes of self-worth, coverings of self-image, concealers of self-protection all blending together into one ugly mess. His artwork covered over. I live in the dirt of an abandoned garden.

Caterpillar number eleven, Bird has taken for her own. This one falling short of the twelve. A number of imperfection and insufficiency, yet Bird sees value. She heralds eleven's transformation with a love-naming...Jewel...the sparkle of Hope; she anticipates change.

"In the same way I will not cause pain without allowing something new to be born', says the Lord" Isaiah 66:9

Jerked from my womb in a torrent of confusion and noise, Bird entered the dirt. Fear choked as her heart rate dropped. Pain had worn me thin, and yet it was her glance that wrecked me. Breathless beauty anticipating growth.

This reflective stare of hers. She sees the caterpillars in me without judging. She mirrors the necessity of my change with a love-naming...mommy.

Bird rushes in the door. Jewel has entered chrysalis. A cocoon of silk thread ushering in transformation. She is ready to be more.

The stare convicts. Chrysalis begins. I enter the scarlet-threaded cocoon of His grace and truth. Darkness encloses, yet Light is there. I have entered the warmth of my God's womb. My unseen parent who is both father and mother giving birth to new Life in the garden. His breath drawing me from the dirt.

Bird announces the time is near. The cocoon is becoming transparent; the thinning out making way for Jewel's re-emergence.

I hand over my painted ladies one by one. There is confusion in what I am becoming; the pain sears as the "me" becomes thinner. Transparency grows, Truth shines in. I shed the self-skins in exchange for His wings of righteousness. His Love-flight made known.

Transparency draws the heart to worship; worship is our metamorphosis.

Jewel emerges fully encompassing her name; she is artwork ready to shine. Metamorphosis complete. Bird watches in astonishment as Jewel takes morning flight.

Morning by morning new mercies I see...

"We are all pregnant with possibilities of spiritual growth and moral beauty so great that they cannot be adequately described as anything less than the formation of Jesus Christ in our lives." John Ortberg

Bird: Thank you for challenging my painted ladies. I pray you see more butterfly days in the future.

To my mother: Thank you for sharing each step of your flight in Him this year with me.