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Butterflies are the soul of spring.  

And now, in these dainty vernal days, I see them everywhere—fluttering on the soft spring breezes; floating above the first trembling sprigs of grass; balancing for a brief rest, their wings opening and closing in the rhythm of a gentle heartbeat, on the swelling buds of flowers to be.  And each butterfly is a masterpiece—their wings the canvas on which the Great Artist splashes living color in a thousand designs.  There are the elegant black swallowtails, swathed in the shadowy blue of twilight, and their cousins the tiger swallowtails, streaked like their namesake with bold black-and-yellow stripes.  There are the painted ladies, their wings a mural of earthy tones with white stipples that glow like stars.  There are the sulphurs that seem to waft through the air with gracefully curving, lemony yellow wings.  And last, but certainly not least, are the spring azures—they’re no bigger than my thumbnail, but the friendly flutter of their tiny purple wings can always bring a smile to my face.

No matter what color or size or design, every butterfly is breathtakingly gorgeous—the swirling soul of the laughing, flower-haired Spring.  But when we’re admiring these gossamer-winged creatures tiptoeing on the sprays of seasonal blossoms, it’s easy to forget that they haven’t always been this glamorous.  In fact, the butterflies that sparkle in springtime skies actually begin their lives as some of the most awkward, homely, and absurd creatures on the planet…caterpillars.  

You see, a butterfly’s life cycle begins inside a pinprick-sized egg, usually attached to leaves or twigs.  When that egg hatches, the creature is introduced to the world as a wormy, wriggly caterpillar with no higher aspirations than scooting along the ground and munching on the tender new leaves.  To see this inglorious, even comical, creature, you’d never dream it would become an object of beauty. 

But after the caterpillar has lived for two to five weeks, a shift occurs.  Dangling itself from a tree branch, the caterpillar spins a silk lifeline from which to hang and encases itself in a hard skin, or chrysalis.  And for a time (usually between ten days and two weeks, although some species can take as long as two years), it waits silently in the dark—until the glorious day when the chrysalis cracks and a gorgeous butterfly emerges.  

This process is known as metamorphosis—a word whose Latin root literally means “change.”  But change seems too mild a word to do justice to such a marvelous happening.  You see, this process involves much more than simply attaching wings to a worm.  As incredible as that alone would be, the act of metamorphosis is even more dramatic.  

Isolated in its chrysalis, a caterpillar is literally remade.  In a complex chemical mixture, key enzymes are activated that dissolve its tissues, breaking down its body.  Meanwhile, important genetic clusters called imaginal cells begin absorbing the energy and nutrients from the disintegrated tissues.  These imaginal cells contain the blueprints for the adult butterfly, and the dissolution of the caterpillar’s form gives them just the energy they need to begin dividing rapidly.  And thus the miracle unfolds, as the formless tissue of the erstwhile caterpillar is reconstituted into a breathtakingly beautiful butterfly.

So you see, butterflies are not just recycled caterpillars—they’re entirely new creatures.  They’re not transitioned—they’re transformed.  But the truly striking principle at work is this:  the glorious transfiguration is only possible after the creatures have been, for all practical purposes, destroyed.  The death of the caterpillar is requisite for the birth of the butterfly. 

Isn’t this so characteristic of the work of God?

Perhaps today, you feel rather like the caterpillar in the chrysalis.  Perhaps you’re huddled in the dark, completely isolated while everything you thought you knew, everything you believed you were, is dissolving. Perhaps, even now, you’re gripped by the torture of a change you didn’t request, won’t escape, and can’t control.    

My friend, if that’s you today, then take courage.  You see, God loves us far too much to watch us stagnate as caterpillars, trapped in a ground-level life.  He’ll do anything to prevent us from staggering through this world in an image that’s not His, following a plan He didn’t design for us.  He wants us to become butterflies—to soar to new heights, to fly free in worlds we can’t even imagine.  And to make that possible, He is constantly in the business of transforming us—smoothing out the rough edges of our character, filling the gaps in our souls, polishing the love in our hearts.  And sometimes—quite often, in fact—His work cannot be truly perfected until He blasts through the mistaken identities we’ve built and takes us all the way back to square one.   

Just consider the life of Paul.  When we hear his name, we envision a venerated saint, a successful evangelist, a fiery preacher and a brilliant intellectual and a prolific writer who authored nearly half of the New Testament.  But the man whose name is almost synonymous with Christianity began his religious career not as Paul, but as Saul—a zealot, a Pharisee, a scrupulous Jew who tortured, arrested, imprisoned, and even murdered the early Christians in the name of misguided religious fervor.

And then God stepped in.  “As he [Saul] journeyed he came near Damascus, and suddenly a light shone around him from heaven.  Then he fell to the ground, and heard a voice saying to him, ‘Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me?’  And he said, ‘Who are You, Lord?’  Then the Lord said, ‘I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting….Arise and go into the city, and you will be told what you must do’” (Acts 9:3-5a, 6b ESV). Blinded by the vision and decimated by its message, Saul spent three days in a friend’s house, until God sent a believer to pray for him, restoring both his vision and his soul.   

This must have been the lowest point of Saul’s life.  One moment, he was renowned, successful, and important.  Then, in an instant, his vocation, his friends, his purpose, and his eyesight all vanished like an early morning mist.  The three days of waiting in the dark chrysalis of the friend’s house must have been agonizing.  But God didn’t desert this broken man.  After his encounter with Jesus, Saul wasn’t just changed; he was completely transformed.  And don’t forget this:  only when Saul was dead could Paul have been born.  And Paul experienced a joy, a wonder, a life of passion and purpose like nothing of which Saul could have ever dreamed.  

Is this process lifegiving?  Absolutely.  But is it pleasant?  Far from it!  We humans are reluctant to enter our own states of metamorphosis.  For starters, we don’t understand what God is doing.  His methods seem erratic at best and downright cruel at worst.  Moreover, it’s uncertain—requiring changes we don’t welcome, sacrifices we won’t yield, and time we feel we can’t afford.  Being a caterpillar is boring, certainly, but it’s also safe and comfortable; we’re not sure we want to exchange humdrum security for the unknowns ahead.  Furthermore, the process is painful—oftentimes, it requires us to squarely face some of the most jagged and soul-tearing concepts in the human existence, like broken hearts, illness, suffering, loneliness, or the white-hot flames of longing unfulfilled.  And when we think of all these things, all these stacked-up terrors, it’s easy to conclude that no future joy can repay us for the present despair.  Whatever God is doing, we think, it can’t possibly be worth all of this! 

Just think again about the caterpillar.  Amazingly, in many species, the imaginal cells begin to activate in a rudimentary fashion before a caterpillar ever enters its chrysalis.  This means that many of the goofy-looking caterpillars hunching across new leaves are wearing embryonic wings just under their skin!  But those wings are not a reality yet; they’re only a possibility.  The caterpillar is carrying its future on its shoulders—but it can’t be activated until the old is destroyed.  

My friends, how true this is for us.  God has scattered our souls with potentials that would take our breath away if we were only aware of them.  Within us, we carry the seeds of divine plans for our lives.  But so often, we don’t know this.  We don’t feel the weight of our wings, and we don’t grasp the magnitude of our future.  In order to open our eyes to our purpose and give us the capability of embracing it, God has to remake us.  Thank God that He sees more than we do and that He’s willing to make sure we don’t short-change ourselves.  Thank God that He is willing to temporarily destroy us—to push us beyond where we would ever venture on our own—in order to develop a greater good we could never imagine.  Surely Paul was thinking of his own metamorphosis when he penned these encouraging words:  “Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day.  For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison” (2 Corinthians 4:16b-17 ESV).

Because, you see, destruction, no matter how utter it seems, is never the end of the story.  God is not a God Who bulldozes our lives and melts our aspirations and then abandons us in a pile of rubble.  He doesn’t tear down without building up.  He doesn’t raze our lives without also raising them.  The dark chrysalis isn’t the end of the caterpillar’s story; it’s simply part of the journey.  And in similar fashion, God will lead us through our seasons of painful change and to the joy of rebirth that waits on the other side.   

And if you don’t believe me—if you’re sure that the destruction is too complete, the situation too hopeless, the time too dark—then remember this:  God is the Author of the most amazing act of metamorphosis in the universe…salvation.  

When we put our faith in Christ, God isn’t concerned with trying to make us look better or talk cleaner or even act nicer.  Instead, He makes us into entirely new creatures—transforming sinners into saints.  And to do that, He starts over.  In a mysterious transfer that we will never fully understand, the act of salvation requires us to die and come back to life.  Our old nature—the sinful, the selfish—died with Christ on the cross and was buried in His tomb.  And with that old nature destroyed, our new spiritual selves are born.  We come alive in ways we could have never imagined.  We no longer bear any resemblance to the creeping caterpillars we once were.  Instead, we are soaring as beautiful butterflies!  The ground-level life of a caterpillar is vanished in exchange for a freedom we could have never imagined in a sphere we never knew existed.  

Trials aren’t meant to reduce us; they’re designed to release us.  As you watch the jewel-winged butterflies floating through the spring sunshine, remember they haven’t always been this way.  To unlock their full potential—to become who they were designed to be—they had to die and come back to life.  And in the same manner, God is transforming us.  No matter how painful the process may be, have faith in the result.  Believe that even now, He is working in mighty ways.  The same God Who mysteriously transforms us at salvation is still leading us through metamorphosis today.  He’s not destroying us; He’s unlocking us from caterpillar lives and preparing us to fly freely with Him.  

Did you enjoy this post? What are some ways you’ve seen God bring rebirth to your life? Let me know in the comments!

Also, did you hear the exciting news? My FIRST BOOK, A Year in the Woods, is releasing soon!!! If you enjoy my bimonthly posts, then you’ll love this book!  It’s the collection of the most beloved blogs of these past two years–revised for today, paired with stunning photography, and arranged in the format of a 52-week devotional!  As you read this beautifully designed book, you’ll journey with me through the seasons…marveling at the mystery of Midsummer, glimpsing the call to courage in the first daffodil blooms, celebrating the redemptive message of the changing leaves, embracing the silence of the winter woods, and most of all, worshipping the Great Artist Whose fingerprints adorn every detail of His wonderful world.  

Stay tuned for more details about A Year in the Woods–releasing soon! And don’t forget to sign up here if you’d like to be notified when it’s available for preorder!