I knew that I was in a delicate space of transition, incubating purpose and promise, but after several months of staring at four lavender walls, I could barely stand the musty stifling cocoon. I knew what was at stake, I understood the value of the journey and though I could see beyond the walls, I was stuck in a matrix and couldn’t experience what was right on the other side.
I’ve worked in the corporate world for over a decade and whenever the words transition, transform, or evolve are mentioned, people either retort with cynicism or slink into the fear of retrenchment. Transitions, however, are always for the good of the entity or creature desiring the change; just ask the caterpillar.
Does every caterpillar really want to become a butterfly? What was so wrong with being a caterpillar anyway? If given the choice, maybe many caterpillars having seen or understood what the transition would cost, might just opt to stay in their old familiar skin. Was one state better than the other? Does she really desire the arduous, solitary, and confined cocoon of change?
At some point, I guess, we are all faced with the red pill or blue pill dilemma. However, I was certain that I didn’t want to go back. I hated the cocoon, yet I deeply desired to become a butterfly. So much so, that I would close my eyes and envision the beautiful multi-coloured plumage that represented a new season. As the symbolic caterpillar, I had enough crawling on my belly; I wanted to grow my wings and fly.
For me, it was a transition of elevation, a destiny call, and a part of my purpose race; and although what I had was more than enough, still, I wanted more. I wanted more because I believed God’s promise to me that there would be more. He promised expansion, increase, and multiplication; though it took many years, I continued to believe.
As the days to new creation drew closer, the cocoon got tighter, the space got smaller and when I thought that I despised the walls, the bed became a prison. Its king size was perfect for comfortable regal sleep, but as an abode, it was cramped and despised. Eating, playing, sleeping and socialising in a singular environment became torturous. On the days when my frustration peaked or my hope meandered like a valley’s stream, I remembered the beautiful plumage.
Unlike the caterpillar, I could literally feel new life moving on the inside and I knew that I had to do everything that I needed, to birth that new life.
I now know that being called to transition or to be part of a transition is a privilege; it is a season to be embraced. The newness, improvement, or fulfillment is always worth the inconvenience, and loss during the months-long or years-long transition.
We don’t get to dictate what the transition looks like, how long it will take, or what the outcome will be. However, we get to humble ourselves to a process that is bigger than us and to hold unto God’s grace so that we will have everything that we need in that season.
As our world evolved God showed up for us in ways that I could not begin to explain. The Lord gave me a promise and despite the difficult process, it was all a testimony that God’s ways are not our ways and that all things will indeed work together for my good.
Jesus will forever be the master change agent, bringing us from sin and destruction to life and abundance. God brought us through a season of change. He held our hands and blessed us with the beautiful Gift He promised. The Word He gave me from Luke 1:14 many years before became a reality, as joy enveloped us, our friends, and our family at the appointed time.
God is supremely faithful and through the transitions of life, His favour will be showered on us, and in His faithfulness He will bless us.
Embrace the transition. Thank the caterpillar version of yourself and then lean into the upgrade!
For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it?
This last paragraph is dedicated to my dear cousin Emero who transitioned into eternity last Thursday. Even though it is the final transition for all of mankind, we were unprepared for his early and senseless demise. Nevertheless, I thank the Lord for the honourable and upright life that he lived. He will be dearly missed and may his soul rest in eternal peace.