Beauty from Ashes:There are no coincidences.

Several weeks ago at my church, we did what are called “cardboard testimonies.” If you’re unfamiliar with the idea, it’s basically this: a piece of cardboard with your “before” story on one side, in just a few words, and your “now” or “after” story on the reverse side. It’s terrific and powerful and a fantastic community-building experience.

As a lead-in to the testimonies in worship that day, my pastor spoke for a few minutes about butterflies. He reminded us about the way that butterflies begin: as creepy crawly caterpillars that really, in all honesty, aren’t very pretty. Then he told us about the messy, goopy disgusting process the caterpillar must undergo to become the colorful butterflies we all love. To relate the story of these magnificent creatures to what we were doing in worship that day, he used this verse from scripture:

This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun! (2 Corinthians 5:17)

When he first began talking about this, I snapped to attention. A few days earlier, Leah and I had returned from a play date to find this in our driveway:

This is actually really unusual at our house. I don’t have a lot of flowering plants, while many of my neighbors do; the butterflies usually bypass my yard for tastier treats elsewhere. You can’t tell from this picture, either, but it was a really big butterfly, floundering and limping across my driveway in the mid-day sun. I immediately noticed its broken wing and determined myself to somehow save the day. When I put my hand down, he walked right onto it (WOW), and stayed in my hand for quite awhile (since, after all, it couldn’t fly away).

I didn’t think I could do much for him, so I told myself that getting him off the hot pavement and into the shade of my flowerbed was good enough. I set him down, and he continued to wobble and flounder in the pine straw.

He stayed there all day. I checked on him periodically through my family room window, and every time, he was right there….just about where I had left him, fluttering and floundering on the ground. It broke my heart. This beautiful little animal, just dying there in front of me, and there was nothing I could do.

He weighed heavily on my mind all day, and I just had this feeling that God wanted to teach me something through the little guy. I even posted about him on my Facebook status. I couldn’t get him off my mind, and I didn’t really know why.

Later that evening, I went outside and the inevitable had happened. He had died. I had known that would happen, of course, since butterflies aren’t known for their longevity, especially when wounded. It crushed me, though, and every time I’ve looked through my pictures since then, I’ve felt the weight of that loss all over again.

Knowing all of that, you can see why my pastor’s analogy using the butterfly caught my attention and held it. I was awestruck, somehow, but still couldn’t quite understand what I was supposed to learn from the whole thing. “Why, Lord, did that butterfly land in my driveway and why did I have that whole experience 3 days before this powerful experience in worship? What are you trying to teach me? What is there for me to learn from this?”

Honestly, I didn’t figure it all out until I sat down to write this post. In the process of writing, I’ve realized something.

We all, if we have our faith in Jesus, are new creations, just like that butterfly. We’ve gone through who knows what in our lives, coming through big messes to become who we are today. By His grace, the old is gone, and the new has come. We are new creations, free to live brand new lives.

However…..

…..if we don’t embrace that fact, we’re crippled. If we don’t embrace the new life that He wants us to have – the new life that He died to ensure we could have – our wings might as well be broken. We cannot hold on to regret or shame or pain or anger that come from our previous lives. We cannot let people tell us that we cannot do something we feel called to do. We can’t allow notions of who we used to be hinder who we have become. We cannot let anyone berate us or negate what we know to be true about ourselves, life, and God. We cannot allow those things to weigh us down. With those things on board, we will never fly, but will continue to flounder and flop in the dirt.

Friends, we were never intended to hang out on the ground. We were created to FLY.

Let it go. Whatever it is that is weighing you down or proverbially clipping your wings, let it go. Realize that you were meant to live for so much more, and that a life above and beyond anything you imagine is waiting for you. That’s the truth. He’s promised it.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! (Ephesians 3:20-21)