Butterfly Problems

I was watching a documentary series the other night (According to my husband, “I was watching a documentary the other night.” is one of my three most frequently used phrases. The other two are “I read a really fascinating article.” and “Why are you crying?”. . . I have six kids.) about a city in Brazil that’s on the edge of the Amazon Rainforest. We’ve been watching an episode a week as a family and this last one was about the giant insects in the city. Of course there were the requisite terrifying spiders and giant flying things, but then they talked about how many species of butterflies there are and how they continue to discover new ones. They showed a butterfly immersing from its chrysalises under the watchful eye of a scientist. Which is when I felt a strong, unexpected sense of identification.

I’m sure I’ve watched this happen before, but I think I’ve always been focused on the beauty of the butterfly. How amazing to go in a plain, ordinary, ground bound caterpillar and come out as this creature of amazing beauty and flight. The caterpillar must feel like she’s just won the lottery.

But this time when I was watching it, I had a different thought– what if the caterpillar is terrified?

That’s probably a more expected response, right? When you went in there you had a pretty good command of your body. You’d lived all your life with your feet firmly fixed on solid ground, or at least a branch or leaf or  SOMETHING. Then one day you feel the urge to curl up and sleep for awhile and when you wake up BAM! You’ve got weird stuff coming out of your back and this whole crawling on the ground thing you’re so used to just doesn’t work the same way anymore.

I think it was watching that newly formed butterfly awkwardly unfold those wings and then just collapse on the ground that made me a little emotional. I felt like I was seeing something acted out in front of me I had only felt before.

My life has not gone how I expected it would. The person I was 10 years ago would not recognize the person I am today. The person I was just a few years ago would be shocked. There has been SO MUCH change in my life. I thought about writing a list here, but it might be easier to just write a list of the things that haven’t changed. By and large these changes have been for the better. When I think about who I used to be, I see this caterpillar process that is happening in my life. My kids and my marriage have refined me. They’ve pushed me in directions I wouldn’t otherwise have gone. I’ve had to become brave in ways I never anticipated. I have had to set boundaries I wouldn’t have considered. I’ve pursued opportunities I thought were just dreams. In very foundational ways, I’ve had to leave behind “normal” for “healthy” and I’ve had to get over my shock that those two things are not always the same.

All of these changes haven’t been easy. I have been that butterfly slumped on the ground, confused about what’s going on. I’ve been mad and longed for my former life where I knew what to expect. Even when that life was boring (at best) or unhealthy (at worst), it was MY life and I knew how to get through each day. Even when life had changed around me, even when I had the capability of being MORE, I wanted to wander around on the ground because that felt safe and comfortable.

This last year has been a year of pursuing health. Physical health, emotional health, marital health, financial health– ALL THE HEALTH. It has been difficult to stare down the unhealthy things that I had come to believe were just “normal” and realize how good things can be when you put in the work to challenge your old assumptions and patterns and then trust God with the outcome. I can look back now at those first few months of struggling for health and see this beautiful butterfly with amazing potential pouting on the ground, angry that she couldn’t be a caterpillar anymore.

Okay, so I’m not generally one for metaphors or sentimentality or BUTTERFLIES, but I have started to see them as the beautiful symbols of change and redemption that I think God made them to be.

Is this part of your story right now? Are you struggling, weeping, angry that you can’t go back? You’ve got wings, but you don’t want to use them? You aren’t sure all this relearning of life is going to be worth it, but you can’t figure out how to un know what you’ve learned? It’s this awkward dance of being so grateful for the change you’ve experienced and being scared out of your mind that this is now normal and you can’t go back. I want to encourage you to get good support for this journey. Find people who can do the risky job of hoping for you– others who see your wings and remind you that going backwards isn’t an option. Climbing back into that chrysalis isn’t going to get you where you want to go.

It may not have been your choice to pursue change. Maybe change just happened to you, but that can be the shove you need to pursue health in your life. It would be great if we all just saw the need for change and took steps to pursue it, but I’m fascinated with how passive that butterfly seems to be in the change process. It happens. She deals. This feels familiar to me. I want to be accepting and embracing of the beautiful work God is doing in my life even when it feels hard and unfamiliar.