The next morning when we came down for breakfast, we quickly saw that the last caterpillar had not successfully made his transformation. While the others were sealed up in perfectly smooth green chrysalises, the last one hadn’t been able to fully “unzip” his caterpillar skin. Half of the chrysalis protruded out at the top while the skin seemed to squeeze tight around the bottom half, preventing the completion of the metamorphosis process.
Using a pair of old tweezers, I pulled the half-transformed caterpillar down from the lid where he had woven his anchor and we marveled at the handiwork that one little creature could create. We gently wrapped him in a tissue and sealed him in a Ziplock bag, then placed him in the freezer where he would quietly and quickly part with life. It was a serious business but one in which we all accepted our role. After a few more questions, the kids turned back to their play and I went to think about plans for dinner that night.
…the eyes that didn’t turn away from the yucky, deformed parts of my mangled soul…
…the skin that faced the lash to secure the healing of my rent body…
…the hands that agreed to the tying and the piercing so that my spirit might be reborn, a new creation of His highest design…
lost to the grave.
In His hands, I am of hope,
and free to the higher ground.
But he laid his right hand on me and said,
Don't be afraid!
I am the First and the Last.