Can You Believe You Will Not Crawl Away From This, But Fly?

Photo Credit: “Chrysalis to Butterfly (#3 of 5)”, © 2012 Sid Mosdell, Flickr | CC-BY | via Wylio

And just when I’m struggling with this in-between phase of life, images fall around me like raindrops.

Maile shared this beautiful one with me the other morning:

“Are caterpillars told of their impending resurrection? How in dying they will be transformed from poor earth-crawlers into creatures of the air, with exquisitely painted wings? If told, do they believe? Is it conceivable to them that so constricted an existence as theirs should burgeon into so gay and lightsome a one as a butterfly’s? I imagine the wise old caterpillars shaking their heads – no, it can’t be; it’s a fantasy, self-deception, a dream. Similarly, our wise ones. Yet in the limbo between living and dying, as the night clocks tick remorselessly on, and the black sky implacably shows not one single streak or scratch of gray, I hear those words: I am the resurrection and the life, and fell myself to be carried along on a great tide of joy and peace.”

– Malcolm Muggeridge

I was sitting at my desk when I read that one. I stared at the book for a few extra moments. Outside my window, the sounds of the city. Normal sounds. Mundane sounds. Certainly nothing that would herald the kind of transformation Muggeridge is talking about here.

If told, do they believe?

Because that’s really the question. I’ve been told that this death, this darkness, will always come before a resurrection, but do I believe it? Do I believe that this cramped space will suddenly open up, that this discomfort is not something I’ll crawl away from but something I’ll fly away from? Do I believe that I can be remade, not just into a better caterpillar, but some new creature entirely?

If told, do they believe?

I believe. Help my unbelief.

3 Replies to “Can You Believe You Will Not Crawl Away From This, But Fly?”

  1. My friend, goodness, this. . . we are blessed to be in a time of mostly receiving the great gifts . . . for once out of waiting. But I will hold these words – your words close – for the waiting times that will surely come again. Thank you.

  2. I think this is why the testimony of others who have walked the path of the cross is so important. I know that as I was in that place of feeling like I was being ground into dust and couldn’t imagine ever emerging from the darkness, having someone I knew had suffered similarly tell me that it does come to an end made all the difference. So allow me to do that for you right now. I have been down into the abyss and thought for certain I wasn’t going to make it. That I would perish or quit or be brought to shame in the end. But God is faithful. The cross is not the end. Death is not the end. The darkness doesn’t win. Morning really does come again. There’s a process at work and you can trust the process. You will fly and skip away from the darkness. Promise.

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