You’ve heard the old saying, everything but the kitchen sink…we used it often when referring to our overly packed vehicles as we departed on vacations or camping trips. I’m not known to pack lightly, which is one reason I have an aversion to flying. When we have a vehicle, I can pack very efficiently and be prepared for just about anything.

Our recent odyssey here at home was a lot like going on a trip without packing properly. July 15, our “departure” day, was just a normal one until, in an instant, it wasn’t. Water was flowing under our kitchen floor when panic set in. I went under the sink in search of leaks, and Ken raced to the water heater, the traitorous culprit. After turning off the water, calling a plumber who drained the tank and ordered a new tank to be delivered the next day, we called it a night, thinking we only needed to pull up and replace a small amount of flooring. The water heater was installed, as promised. The plumbers recommended we call a water damage mitigator, and we did. That was when reality set in.

Give your burdens to the Lord, and he will take care of you. Psalm 55:22

It began with two days of demolition as I tried to pack breakables, and Ken followed my direction in moving various pieces of furniture and any important papers or other such items that might be needed to the primary bedroom, our new “efficiency apartment.” It was critical to get wet materials exposed so that drying could begin and to contain the amount of damage. Then we endured seven days and nights of nonstop noise from all the drying equipment, followed by two weeks with the sound of nail guns piercing the air and flooring being banged into place. The laundry was the first to be finished, two weeks after the damage occurred, and that was a real blessing. The living room was next after the flooring was completed, enabling us to escape the confines of the bedroom, and it felt a little more like home. Of course, that was also when I hurt my back, and all my activity ceased for a few days. Then we waited for cabinets to be rebuilt.

Actually, that week of not having to accommodate the contractor’s schedule was a nice little respite. We could come and go as we pleased and were able to cook some decent meals while the flurry of activity was absent from our kitchen area, which consisted of a refrigerator, stove, and a folding table for a prep surface. Anything that required water had to be carried to the bathroom. You don’t know how often you turn to the kitchen sink until you don’t have one. Our kitchen is on the west end of our home, and both bathrooms are on the east end. They couldn’t be any further apart and still be within the house. We got lots of steps in every day, especially after we were able to cook in the kitchen, albeit without cabinets or counter space.

On August 20, the cabinets were set, and the countertop specialist was scheduled to do the measurements. Once again, a few days’ wait. The measurements were taken on August 24, and we were scheduled for delivery on the 27th, a miracle in itself. One little hiccup occurred, but tops were installed as scheduled. It was day 42, and we had everything literally, but the kitchen sink and, believe me when I say, a home isn’t complete without it.

Saturday evening (last night as I’m writing on Sunday), we had running water in our kitchen for the first time in 44 days. As much as I wanted to see and touch that water, I was a little nervous to turn it on. What if it leaked? Thank the Lord and some good plumbing work, it didn’t!

I wish I could say that I was patient and a joy to be with during all those weeks, but I wasn’t. I tried hard and prayed hard to be more like Jesus. Some days, my attitude was positive and others… well, you know.

We’re not quite finished. Boxes still need to be unpacked and their contents replaced into the kitchen cabinets. I’m still pacing myself with that chore, and that’s not my style, but I want to get it done without mishap, so I’ll behave. There are still cosmetic tasks to complete and one big item: the water heater and air handler have to be removed from the mechanical room so the floor can be replaced. We’re waiting for a couple of cooler days to do that. But the kitchen is ours to do as we wish, and evidence of everyday life is present in our home again. I am so grateful, and I’m also very glad to have a forgiving Father who will want me to improve by following his guidance, but won’t hold my unpleasant moments of the past few weeks against me. Thank you, Lord!

It’s against God’s nature to remember forgiven sins…I believe in his loving forgetfulness. And I believe He has a graciously terrible memory. Max Lucado, Everyday Blessings

We humans keep brainstorming options and plans, but God’s purpose prevails. Proverbs 19:21 MSG

It would be an understatement to say that I am a big fan of TV military procedural dramas, especially those focused on Air or Naval operations. You may remember JAG (Judge Advocate General) from the mid-nineties. When it ended in 2005, I was devastated but consoled by the NCIS spin-off, which premiered in 2003 and continues today. Those two series represent twenty-three total years of television history, and I have probably seen every episode. Now I can watch them on Prime when I choose.

In addition to TV shows, I love movies like Top Gun and Hunt for Red October. Yes, I know that Hollywood versions romanticize military life and reality is a lot different, but military protocol has always been a draw for me. I like the no-nonsense crispness of it, and one thing that I think is portrayed fairly accurately onscreen is the transfer of control of a ship, sub, or plane. A handoff from the commanding officer to the second in command, or back again to the commanding officer, is very succinctly spelled out so there is no confusion and all the players are absolutely aware of who has control.

Our personal relationship with God, and in turn Jesus, is a lot like that, but while military personnel live in a world of protocols and the expectation that enlisted men and women will obey the orders of their superior officers, God waits patiently for us to relinquish control to him. It’s the age-old struggle between clinging to a desire for personal control or letting go and letting God take the reins.

God isn’t impressed by our accomplishments or distracted by our failures;

He delights in our obedient attempts. Bob Goff, Catching Whimsy

I once mentioned that a favorite devotional book of mine is Pray a Word a Day, in which a single word provides the theme for the day’s passage. This past week, I’ve experienced a word not just for a day but for the entire week. You guessed it, my word was CONTROL. It popped up everywhere I turned; in my devotional studies, Bible readings, even in our praise songs at church.

One such older hymn, It Is Well With My Soul, along with its modern counterparts, has been on an almost constant loop in my mind during this whole encounter with the subject of control. Written in the late eighteen hundreds by Horatio Spafford, It Is Well With My Soul became a favorite hymn to bolster courage during trying times. Spafford lost his only son and was then hit by a huge financial loss in the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. An economic downturn in 1873 caused even greater harm, and Spafford found himself relying heavily on God for strength. The family planned a trip to England that same year, and Horatio was kept behind by a change in business plans, but his wife and four daughters departed by ship only to be struck by another sea vessel. The ship sank in a matter of minutes, killing 226 of its passengers, including all four of Horatio’s daughters. Later he sailed to England to reunite with his wife and was able to visit the spot where his daughters drowned. He made a statement there that whatever life held for him, all would be well because of his faith. Some years later, he turned those thoughts into the hymn still recognized for its strong faith statement.

When peace like a river, attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll;

Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to know

It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Sunday, we incorporated the chorus of the hymn into our praise song, Holy Forever. It is also associated with another praise song that we sing, My God Is Still In Control;

Though mountains may tumble and sea billows roll,

I’ll sing it is well with my soul, My God is still in control.

(From the chorus)

Even in rough seas, we can count on Him to be always in control.

Dear Lord, thank you for giving me the strength to withstand difficulties—not the worse for wear, but better for the experience. 365 Days of Prayer by Guideposts

Let my teaching fall like rain and my words descend like dew, like showers on

new grass, like abundant rain on tender plants. Deuteronomy 32:2 NIV

These past few weeks have been ripe with opportunity for ragged negative emotions to rule the day, thus causing frustration, discouragement, and even anger. It’s in times like these that we really need to filter our thoughts before they spring forth from our mouths. I have to admit, I’ve never been good at engaging my brain before my mouth takes over. Thus, it’s easy for me to hurt others with a thoughtless remark that I would never make if I just took a moment to breathe and consider my options. It’s not my desire to be hurtful or unkind, but my mouth has a hair trigger. No, I don’t swear, but I’m too quick to ask, “Now, why did you do that?” Or perhaps, “What in the world were you thinking?” And I may occasionally raise my voice a tad. I know the moment those words leave my mouth that I should have said something encouraging or nothing at all.

Most adults know when we’ve said or done something that is less than brilliant… we don’t need a reminder. But, in the heat of the moment, too often our words tend to fuel the fire, so to speak. The past few days, God has touched my heart through a number of devotions that deal with my “foot-in-mouth” issues, and I hope I’ve picked up a few tidbits to help me.

Father, your words are the foundation of my heart’s belief. You are the ROCK on which I depend. Max Lucado

I recognize the importance of building people up rather than tearing them down, and I’ve watched others do exactly that. My husband, for instance, has a warm, wonderful way of making folks around him feel comfortable. He searches out their strengths and builds on those.

The funny thing is, I’m able to treat total strangers that way myself. I spent a number of very successful years in customer service and could turn just about any crisis into a positive outcome. Why then, do those skills not transfer to the people I care most about and spend the majority of my time with? Shouldn’t I be even more cautious and aware of their feelings? And, of course, therein lies the answer. I take their forgiveness for granted because I know they care about me and will be more likely to dismiss my outbursts of frustration and anger. Clearly, they deserve better.

And also very clearly, I need to focus on being more like Jesus. I need to measure my responses, bite my tongue when an emotional comment tries to slip out, ask myself what Jesus would say, and then hand out abundant love and kindness to everyone, strangers and those I know well.

Let your words water my thirsty mind and your love help me grow healthy relationships with others. Max Lucado

The dog days of summer still have a long way to go; I still have to baby my back and let others do the work I feel should be mine, and, barring a miracle, our kitchen won’t be back in working order for several weeks yet. I believe that means there will be lots of talks with Jesus to help me learn patience. As my battle with words continues, and I know it will, I’ll cling to my Rock and maybe, just maybe, I’ll learn something from these current battles that will stick to me for a lifetime. Maybe there is a calmer and less “worrywart” version of me lurking in this old body that can find its way to the surface. I’d really like that. Meanwhile, I’ll spend lots of time in the presence of the Rock!

A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold, in settings of silver. Proverbs 25:11 NKJV

The fear of the Lord is the instruction of wisdom, and before honor is humility. Proverbs 15:33

You may recall our tale of woe regarding the water heater overflow that destroyed a good portion of our home on July 15. Throughout the mitigation phase, reflooring, and cosmetic restoration, we’ve been living in the primary bedroom. You don’t realize the role a working kitchen plays in everyday life until you don’t have one. I missed the openness of the living room, but the kitchen is truly the heart of the home. We’ve come a long way from the days of going outside the home to collect water from a spring or stream for daily use, and I, for one, was not ready to be without the kitchen sink. But we’re managing with a much smaller bathroom sink.

Our laundry was the first room to be restored, and that was a big step forward. Our neighbor volunteered her washer and dryer, and I accepted her generosity until ours were ready for use again. This past Friday we reclaimed our living room. I was so thrilled to be able to have more space that I made a major tactical error. After working in my flowers for an hour or so, I scrubbed the new floor on my hands and knees… yes, the old-fashioned way. It needed a lot of TLC.

Our living room furniture was crammed into the open space that would someday be the kitchen once again. We had taken care to be sure that every piece had felt pads to protect our flooring and make movement easier. And one more safety measure before I began was the addition of my back brace. A while later, I felt a real sense of accomplishment as I watched our living room become a comforting space once again. I was very pleased with all I was able to complete before Ken woke up or the men arrived to continue the work. They had all said they would help, but I was anxious.

When Ken came in to help start breakfast, we busied ourselves gathering supplies and dishes. That’s a real hassle when nothing is in its proper place. As I began the daily transformation of bathroom to makeshift kitchen, I banged my toe, and my reaction to that instant pain sent additional pain spasms throughout my back. Obviously I’d overworked muscles trying to get everything just the way I’d wanted it without waiting for help. Now, I was paying the price for my pride.

I dealt with the pain for two days, but on the morning of day three, I couldn’t stand up on my own. I had to throw in the towel and pay our doctor a visit. I left there with a shot of steroid in my hip and a prescription for muscle relaxers along with an admonishment to rest and to do no lifting, pulling, or pushing. Isn’t that just great? We’re in the middle of a restoration, and I’m sidelined!

Had I exercised patience and waited for help, the injury could have been avoided, and I’d still be able to put the details of our home back into order. Now I must rest and relax my muscles, leaving all the tasks I wanted to complete for a later time. How many ways do I have to be told that we all need to accept help from one another before I get the message? We were created to be a community. In my impatience to have a portion of our living space back to normal, I made this entire process harder for everyone. I feel a lot like Paul when he stated,

“I don’t really understand myself, for I want to do what is right, but I don’t do it. Instead I do what I hate.” Romans 7:15

One thing is certain… it’s high time I turn total control of this restoration over to the Lord. And then I must remember not to pick it up and run with it again. There’s only so much this aging body can do without bringing in reinforcements. Humility is sometimes a bitter pill to swallow, but it’s intended to be a naturally occurring component of our spiritual selves. Help me, Lord, to be humble enough to call for help the next time I get in over my head…as I am certain I will!

The minute I said, “I’m slipping, I’m falling,” your love, God, took hold and held me fast. When I was upset and beside myself, you calmed me down and cheered me up. Psalm 94:18-19

For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord. They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope….when you pray I will listen. If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find me.

Jeremiah 29:11-13 NLT

Once upon a time, and many years ago, a family was traveling through a vast desert, and though the desert displays its own kind of beauty, it appeared void of vegetation. Suddenly, the sound of thunder broke the silence, and rain began to fall- not sprinkles, but a very heavy downpour. The family took shelter at a roadside station until the rain stopped. As they departed their shelter, a scene of immeasurable beauty surrounded them. Every cactus that had first appeared nearly depleted of water was suddenly alive with the colors of flowers. The incredible scene of beauty that surrounded the family was nothing short of a miracle.

No, this isn’t a fairytale. I was part of that family on a hot, dusty road in Arizona that day, and it was many years ago, BK, I like to call it, meaning “before Ken.” I mark the events in my life as before or after Ken. We stopped for gas at one of the vastly separated stations along the way, and the owner was convinced we’d brought the rain along with us from Missouri, and he wanted us to stay a while. He hadn’t seen a drop of moisture for nearly a year. We filled the car with gas and visited with the friendly owner inside the station until the weather settled. And as we walked out the door, we were astonished at the transformation of that desert. Where once there had been only sand and the occasional boulder, there was color as far as the eye could see. Insects were buzzing, lizards were slithering through puddles, birds flitted from flower to flower in search of nectar. Anything living in that dry land had to make haste and partake of the bounty before it disappeared again.

We were blessed that day to witness the beauty of color covering a very barren and seemingly empty land for just an instant in time. I carry that memory in my heart. That trip was also quite a lesson in the power and creativity of our God. Only He could paint a canvas of that magnitude.

….this place is not empty. It was overflowing with Him. I breathed deep.

Whispered thanks. Buck Storm, Pray a Word a day

There are dry patches in our lives that resemble desert wastelands…times when nothing seems to be going right. The trials we face often leave us feeling parched and thirsty. The thing I’m learning, albeit at a turtle’s pace, is that even in life’s deserts there is beauty. It’s all around us; in a sunrise at the start of a brand new day filled with possibilities, or the sunset once the day is finished and it’s time to rest. It’s in the things that crawl and the things that fly; it’s in the earth and the sky and, of course, flowers. When we really look at any desert, we will find beauty. After all, God made it, and He doesn’t make mistakes. And best of all, He’s always with us, especially in the deserts.

Sometimes the desert isn’t a trial at all. It’s simply a moment to be still and be loved. Buck Storm, Pray a Word a day

When I experience deserts in my faith—times when it feels my well is dry; it may happen in the midst of a stressful situation, as we have now with our home still partially unusable because of the damage from our leaking water heater…think back nearly three weeks. A financial glitch could cause a faith drought as well, or a job loss. And the passing of a loved one is probably the most trying desert of all. In our desperation, we may shout at God or doubt His Word, or wonder how He could let such a thing happen. Prayer may then be the furthest thing from our minds… but prayer is always the answer to take us from dry patches to the Living Water.

Everyone experiences a dry period in their faith—a time when they feel uninspired

and unheard in prayer. It’s important to realize that everyone has them,

and the way out . . . is to pray anyway. Reach out to God and

ask him to heal the deserts in your spiritual life.

365 Days of Prayer: Simple Reflections to Connect You to God (Guideposts)

With just a word, He can calm us….or the storm.

God Moments too (Referenced from Matt 8:25-26)

Let me begin by saying that the forty-plus years I’ve spent with Ken have been the best of my life. With that said, there was a life before Ken. Four years of it were spent living and working at Twin Rivers Landing, a beautiful family-oriented campground in south-central Missouri. I worked there for another three years after Ken and I were married.

My daughter and I shared a one hundred twenty-five-year-old log cabin built in the dogtrot style, two wings on either side of a breezeway. It had been converted to a modern two-bedroom, two-bath home with all the amenities. The dogtrot portion was enclosed to become the front entry and a bath. It was very cozy and beautiful, and the wood stove we added was an extra bonus on chilly nights.

When I wasn’t working, we spent our days in the sparkling clear Black River. We swam, canoed, and tubed. When we weren’t in the water, we often enjoyed a lazy horseback ride along the stream and up into the hills around the property. It was the perfect place for us to be at that time in our lives. We showed family movies on the lawn complete with popcorn and snow cones. We had a game barn filled with lots of fun activities to entertain the kids. We offered horse-drawn hayrides two evenings a week and special events that appealed to all ages. Jeni made friends among our camping guests, and I enjoyed a job filled with variety and lots of interesting challenges.

Our little corner of paradise sat just below the confluence of the three forks of the Black River. That meant we always had water, though it could get pretty low during summer droughts. In late spring and early summer, it ran much higher, and sometimes we got too much rain. Floods were not uncommon, and we were forced to evacuate the campground on several occasions. Those who live and work in the area must be able to read the river. It’s not a question of if it will flood but when, and the severity of the flooding will depend on which portions of the watershed are affected. Heavy rain on one fork is manageable; when a second fork becomes involved, the outlook deteriorates, and when all three forks are running high, it’s time to buckle up and get ready for a rough ride.

Ken was assigned to Johnson’s Shut-Ins State Park during our time at Twin Rivers Landing, and that area was subject to flooding from the east fork of the same Black River, so both of us learned a lot about recovery and restoration. After our marriage, Jeni and I moved there and continued our life on the Black River. And do you know, even with the flooding issues, I wouldn’t trade those years for anything. God outdid himself when he created that portion of south-central Missouri. To this day we still consider it the most beautiful place in our very diverse and lovely state.

Just two weeks ago, dramatic flooding struck our former homes. All three forks rose rapidly under heavy thunderstorms. Record water levels delivered considerable damage to the state park, and some portions are still closed for repair or reconstruction. My old campground didn’t fare as well. That campground and several others suffered total loss and devastation. The good news is that everyone was rescued by National Guard helicopters or water rescue teams from many areas who mobilized quickly to reach the scene. It was truly a miracle, aided by the hard work of rescuers, that no one perished in that area.

One of the St Louis TV stations provided excellent coverage online. It was difficult watching the footage of a place I loved so much being obliterated and knowing how the livelihood of those businesses and their staff are now affected. Tourism is about the only business in the area, and many people will be without income. I have watched interviews with some of the people and despite the devastation, they are strong and resilient. I don’t know if or when there will be campgrounds along that river again, but I do know that God will heal his land. The river and all its ecosystems will flourish again. His creation will be beautiful once more.

We all have our storms…some small and others large. Life changes in a moment. But God is always there in the middle of the chaos.

God gets into things…look and you’ll find what everyone from Moses to Martha discovered. God in the middle of our storms.

Max Lucado, Everyday Blessings

Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails. Proverbs 19:21

This has been one of those weeks that would test the patience of a saint. Ken said last weekend that we had a busy one coming up, but he didn’t know the half of it. Monday began with typical outdoor chores. I tended flowers, and he mowed grass. That was the last typical morning we enjoyed. After mowing, he decided it was time to trim our way-out-of-control burning bush. We’d been discussing it for a few weeks, and now it was going to happen. This was a giant of a bush, one that offered lots of privacy to our very exposed back yard, and the bright red of fall made it an outstanding specimen.

Ken first attacked it with electric hedge trimmers, and I grabbed the giant loppers. Soon he took over the loppers, and I began piling the trimmed branches out of our way. After a grueling afternoon of work, we reduced the tree from about twelve feet high and an equal distance in width to less than half its original size. It was too late to take the clippings to the yard waste dumpster, so we got up Tuesday morning and took two pickup loads to dispose of them. We finished our very warm day of work, showered, and decided to go to an estate sale on Wednesday, followed by grocery shopping.

It was an enjoyable day until we returned home. After everything was put away, I settled in to read a while, and Ken came in asking if I’d noticed the bump in the floor at the foot of the refrigerator. I had not seen that before, but we assumed there had been water there, judging by the appearance of the laminate. We checked all around and found no moisture that could be attributed to the refrigerator, but we did call for service. I then went back to reading, and Ken went about his online tool research.

Soon, I headed through the kitchen to the laundry, and as I crossed the space between the two rooms, I felt squishing beneath my feet. There was water under our flooring. We started checking other water sources, and Ken found the culprit. Our water heater had apparently overheated, and the check valve released the very hot water onto the floor. As water will do, it found the path of least resistance…a mini disaster in the making.

Ken shut off the water to the tank and began mopping. Within a few minutes, the squishing ceased, but the damage was done. A new water heater was installed the next morning at the plumber’s recommendation. The old heater had passed the fifteen-year mark, so it seemed best. But then, a restoration specialist came and tested our floors and walls for moisture and discovered lots of it; in a large portion of the kitchen, in the laundry room, and a small part of the living room, which happened to be under the fireplace, and let’s not forget the utility closet where the nasty culprit had sat. The fix…well, as of Sunday evening, our kitchen is completely torn out along with the bottom two feet of drywall. The laundry is torn apart, the fireplace removed from the living room, and all the flooring removed. But none of the repairs can begin until it’s dry and protected from future mold. So, we are “enjoying” the hum of two industrial dehumidifiers and nine high-velocity fans in the affected rooms. There are six more fans under the house. Some of our appliances are in the garage along with boxes of cabinet contents and the disassembled cabinets. Other appliances are scrunched to one side of the living room along with the living room furniture.

….it’s as though He’s reminding me to rest in His complete reliability and competence to execute a good plan on my behalf—perhaps one that will surprise, delight, challenge, and grow me up in Him. (Pray A Word A Day)

We’ve created something of a sanctuary in our primary bedroom. With comfy furniture and the door closed, we can tolerate the noise of the motors. The small bathroom sink is doubling as a kitchen sink. They’re telling us it will take at least two weeks to get most of it back to normal. Meanwhile, we’re having a hot meal out each day and making do with cold food the rest of the time. It tastes good on these hot days.

I’m trying very hard to stay positive, but it’s a battle, if not impossible. I’ve been trying to set aside some time by myself, upon rising in the morning and when falling asleep surrounded by loud noise each evening, to think of all the things I’m grateful for. Some of them are very small and some quite large. The greatest is the presence of Jesus on one side of me and Ken on the other. I very much need both my guys to meet this challenge. As we navigate between the before and after of this most recent journey, I’ll trust them both to be at my side. (Even when I get crabby.)

For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength. Philippians 4:13

And I will give you a new heart, and I will put a new spirit in you… Ezekiel 36:26a

As a young girl, the late elementary study of the life cycle of caterpillars to butterflies stirred my imagination. I was amazed that such a phenomenon could exist, and I wanted to observe it with my own eyes.

I went into my yard searching for subjects to attempt an experiment. To my delight, I found a large number of caterpillars on a pair of tall poplar trees in our backyard. I quickly located a large jar, punched numerous holes in its lid, broke several twigs, complete with leaves, and placed them in my jar. I then added several of the caterpillars and watched as they devoured leaves. It would clearly be a big job to keep those little critters supplied with food if they were to survive and complete my goal of raising them to be butterflies.

I added leaves whenever the supply became low, kept a container of water in the jar, and watched as the small caterpillars became larger and changed color. I lost a couple along the way, but my persistence paid off. When I checked on them one morning, a couple of them had formed perfect chrysalises.

Chrysalis: a protected state of growth, development, or transitional phase where someone or something is preparing to undergo a profound, beautiful change. merriam-webster.com

I released the others and, no longer needing to perform my regular feeding duties, my task became one of patiently waiting. One day, I noticed a big change in the appearance of one chrysalis. Traces of the pattern of the adult butterfly became obvious through the thinning shell, and shortly after that, right before my eyes and to my great delight, the beautiful insect emerged. It sat quietly for a while and then spread its wings. That was my cue to open the jar and let it go. The reward of all my efforts was a beautiful butterfly drinking in the nectar from my mom’s petunias.

That experiment, of course, happened long ago, and I have no idea which variety of butterfly I raised in my jar, but I can remember the thrill of watching the adult butterfly emerge and then rise into the air to complete its purpose: to mate and ensure the continuation of the species.

And the fascination with the process of metamorphosis still intrigues me today. How in this world can a long, slender caterpillar cover itself in a magical coating, liquify and rearrange its entire molecular structure, and emerge as a delicately winged butterfly? First, it’s crawling along leaves, eating everything in its wake, and then it’s flitting from flower to flower, drawing nectar for its nourishment. Not only does it seem impossible, but I ask myself, “Why?” What is the reason that some of God’s creatures completely transform during their life cycles?

Perhaps the answer is that we humans need a science lesson to demonstrate God’s ability to change any living thing into something different. After all, he created the caterpillar—of course, He can transform it into anything He wants it to be. And He can do the same with us. When we finally realize that He gave us life and wants to share all of that life with us, a metamorphosis begins in us. No, of course, we don’t liquify or rearrange our molecular structure. Our metamorphosis is not one of the body, but one of the heart and soul.

There, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here. II Corinthians 5:17

We begin with a desire to devour God’s Word; we are nourished by His daily bread and living water. We grow in relationship with Him and become a new person. Do we always live up to His expectations? Certainly not! But once we know Him, we understand that He’ll always be there. If He can make that funny-looking caterpillar become a lovely butterfly, He can surely turn my mess into a life of extraordinary beauty. Create in me, Lord, a metamorphosis that makes me look more like you!