Spirituality

Strengthened by Struggle

Blog_ButterflyChrysalisSo it looks like my butterflies-to-be will be coming home with me for Spring Break. Though I was hoping my students would be here to witness metamorphosis, the timing just didn’t work out. But the coming transformation is something I definitely do NOT want to miss. How sad if it were to happen in an empty classroom, for no one to see.

Unfortunately, that’s how most ordinary miracles are, happening every day, all around us—yet we fail to see. But that’s another blog post.

What I’m thinking about now is…struggle. The other morning, my co-worker gave me some pointers on caring for newly hatched butterflies that turned out to be profound wisdom. When they emerge, the butterflies will struggle. I’ll want to help them, of course, but helping them would hinder a necessary process. Because it’s through the struggle that they gain strength.

How reflective of life, these butterflies. We struggle, fight, and flail—all the while praying to get out of the trial we’re in. If only we lived free of struggle, we’d be strong…or so we believe.

Yet it’s in the midst of struggle that we become strong. The burdens we bear seem to weigh us down, when in fact they’re building us up. Soon, our wings will be strong to fly, if only we endure.

Though it’s hard, I’m learning a new prayer—not that God will take the trial from me (unless He wants to!), but that God will make me stronger through the trial. As Jesus prayed in the garden, so I pray, “My father! If it is possible, may this cup of suffering be taken from me. Yet I want your will to be done, not mine.”

Do Not Disturb

Blog_WorkInProgressMy butterflies are waiting in their chrysalises, soon to emerge in splendor and freedom. While I wait for their big reveal, I’m doing my best to follow the step-by-step directions that accompanied the butterfly garden kit. And, I might add, biting my nails. What if I do something wrong? Could one mistake prevent these amazing creatures from fulfilling their destiny? Will they die in their cocoon?

This morning, I took the bold step of removing the paper film from their former habitat and transferring the chrysalises to their garden home. Bold, I say, because I do NOT like insects. As mentioned in yesterday’s blog post, the only thing motivating me to care for these otherwise repulsive bugs is the knowledge of what they will become.

The next step shouldn’t be so hard. “Do not disturb.” Although, in a classroom full of curious kids, it’s not as easy as it sounds. The future butterflies are busy at work, though all we see is their hard outer shell hanging loosely from the netting. Our job is to wait and watch.

Sometimes, we get a little eager to see what’s going on with our circumstances. We want answers, and we want them now. If it seems nothing’s happening, we want to intervene. What if we’re not doing enough?

And yet…what if we’re doing too much?

There’s a season for everything. There’s a time to labor and invest. And there’s a time to wait and watch. There’s wisdom in discerning which season we’re in.

If we step in when we should be still, we disrupt the process. Think of Abraham. When he should have been waiting patiently for the fulfillment of God’s promises, he took matters into his own hands—resulting in family strife that affected all of history beyond.

When God says “do not disturb,” it’s best to listen. There’s a work in progress. We’re a work in progress. And the results of waiting (patiently!) are always glorious.

“The Lord will fight for you. You need only be still.” (Exodus 14:14)

When the Lights go Out

Blog_CandlesI spent the night in the neonatal intensive-care unit once with my son. It was enough to know I’d never want to be there during a power outage. My cousin in-law, a director of the NICU at a local hospital, woke up early one January morning to that very crisis. Severe winter weather resulted in a power outage, and the back-up generator lost connection with the fuel supply.

She was responsible to oversee the safe transport of several critical-condition babies by teams of professionals through darkened hallways and stairwells. With only flashlights to guide them, the teams effectively intervened. Once power was restored, the babies were safely, miraculously returned to the hospital unharmed.

When she shared the story with me, I was amazed how she could have remained so clear-minded in the midst of such chaos. She said when she arrived at the hospital, she stood in the pitch-dark stairwell of her unit thinking of all the lives that were at stake. And she prayed.

Her story reminds me of how Captain Rostron of the Carpathia responded upon hearing the distress signal from the sinking Titanic. Before taking action, shipmates observed him praying. Once they moved forward, they were able to successfully navigate the same sea of icebergs that destroyed the Titanic.

Prayer may seem to some an afterthought or a crutch. But for the person of faith, prayer is the very lifeboat that draws us to the presence of a limitless God. For my cousin as for Captain Rostron, God responded to their prayers by bringing peace and clarity of mind to navigate through an otherwise catastrophic situation.

When the lights go out in our lives, there is one who supplies greater power. He may not make the difficulties go away. He may not make them easier. But He will give us the wisdom we need to make our way, and even lead others, safely through the darkness. He will give peace that passes all understanding, when there is no other source for such peace to flow.

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:6-7)