Job, Jacob, and One Beautiful Black Swallowtail

I saw a butterfly this morning. I have been waiting for this butterfly to be born for awhile now. And when I went out to check on its Chrysalis this morning, there was the beautiful Black Swallowtail dangling from a parsley sprig, completely spent, exhausted from its emergence from what is now just an empty shell. It was beautiful. Beautiful simply in its exquisitely designed and detailed body, but beautiful perhaps, even moreso, for what it meant for me this morning.

Something has been stirring in my heart in the deepest way lately. It has been so deep and so strong that I haven't even come close to being able to describe it. And for whatever reason, yesterday was a dark night during this season of stirring change deep within me. It reminded me of the night we rode out Hurricane Ike. It was a long, sleepless night of wild, howling wind. Of havoc being wrought in the darkness of night. Of uncertainty. We were never so glad to see morning, the breaking of daylight. And I wasn't even afraid to survey the damage simply because I was so thankful the storm had passed.

I heard a friend recently speak on the idea of the Butterfly Effect. She explained how in theory, a simple flap of a butterfly's wing can set in motion a hurricane on the other side of the world. It sounds a little far fetched, but I'm thinking there is something to this. And I am thankful for the butterfly who flapped her wings and set in motion  this storm in my life. I've needed it without even knowing. I've thought about this idea a lot this week.

And after marveling at the beauty of this delicate and glorious creature this morning, I felt a little lighter when I set out to run. I understood better the concept of this butterfly having to completely spend itself to emerge from its chrysalis. I thought about how it had to be helpless and exhausted before it could fly.  And for some reason my mind moved to Job and how God spoke to him out of the storm. And how when Job spoke back after the storm he said "My ears had heard of You but now my eyes have seen You." And as I ran on, my mind turned to Jacob, and how he called his own storm into his life when he wrestled with God, when he refused to let go, and how at daybreak he received a new name. He was called Israel simply because he refused to let go.

And I can't help but think that sometimes it isn't enough to simply ride out the storm. Sometimes it is necessary to lean into it. To call it forth. And like Job, when we cry out, we are heard. And like Jacob, we can be renamed when we refuse to let go. And like my beautiful Black Swallowtail, we can only fly after we surrender to the storm of our own rebirth.