“Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” Psalm 90:12
Life is fluid, meaning change is imminent, and change is good. Change is healthy and important, but change can be frightening too. Nothing remains as it was originally created for the duration of its existence. Rivers change. Landslides alter shorelines. Rocks are smoothed by weather. Volcanoes erupt.
These examples might be on the calamitous side, but caterpillars turn into butterflies, and people love that change. Hurricanes dissipate into rainstorms. Seeds grow into crops. Buds turn into beautiful flowers or leaves. Eggs develop into birds. Tadpoles mature into frogs. Change is vital. Change is beautiful.
As humans we tend to try to maintain sameness. We monitor temperature indoors. We watch calories. We want to grow old near where we grew up. We want that same job all-career long. But the Greek philosopher born in 540 B.C. named Heraclitus said, “The only constant in life is change.”
Somewhere around day three after my most recent surgery, I carefully walked outside to get some fresh-outside air. I was feeling a little emotional as I had made all the preparations God had led me to which meant big change. Change that had started in my heart some time ago, but only came to life very recently. Change that would redefine how I saw myself, how I tend my home, and how I interact with the world. Change that would demand reliance on God as I have been comfortable in this stage, the arena for nine years. On this occasion of slow stepping out the door, God revealed a truth to me using a magnificent butterfly.
As soon as I opened the front door, I was awed by the breath-taking beauty of a butterfly lazily fluttering its wings while poised on a piece of gravel. This butterfly had vivid, electric blue wings, brighter than any sky or ocean. The blue wings were outlined in velvety black. The bottom of the wings were serrated and had symmetrical blue dots lining the black bottom outline.
Naturally, me being a resident of 2023, I thought, “I wish I could take a picture of this beautiful butterfly.” I felt in my spirit God saying, “Just watch and enjoy. It’s not beautiful because you can hold onto it, but because you could experience it and let it go.”
I was so humbled by God’s whisper that seemed to come on the wings of a stunning butterfly. I considered how I had so focused on my physical needs, the surgery, that I had forgotten my emotional needs as change was in the air. Through this one purposeful moment, I realized the place of security I was being called out of was still beautiful and wonderful and precious and special to me and to God, but it is beautiful because I had the privilege to be part of it for a time and am now being called to let it go.
An ice cream cone isn’t fantastic because it lasts, but because for a short time it’s sweet and cold and delicious. A baby’s smile isn’t adorable because it stays the same, but because excitement rises with each new tooth that comes in. Puppies and kittens aren’t lovable because they stay tiny and vulnerable forever but because they grow and mature into our faithful companions.
Flowers eventually wilt. Ice cream melts. Tomatoes decay. Sunsets fade to black. Change is imminent. We can choose to walk gracefully with God through change because there will always be change. We can choose to be present and appreciate the beauty that surrounds us in the moment knowing it won’t last forever. Or we can go through change by ourselves, pouting, lamenting, and fretting. The choice is ours.
Dr. Seuss said, “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.” I smile because I have been blessed.
“Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.” James 4:14
