Of Caterpillars and Chrysalides

I heard once that a caterpillar in its chrysalis has to liquify completely before it turns into a butterfly. As gross as that is, it is a fitting analogy as to how the Lord often times will break us down completely before he can make anything out of us.

For the past ten years or so, my husband has enjoyed a sporadically successful career as a musical theater performer ("sporadically" is here meant to qualify the word "career" rather than "successful". Every job he has had has been wildly successful, but they have usually been spaced apart by scary periods of joblessness). He has both understudied and played full-time major leading roles in national tours of some of the most popular musicals in the world. He has recorded 2 solo albums, sung in numerous solo concerts and as a notable guest soloist, and he frequently receives fan mail from people who love his work and whose lives have been changed by hearing him perform. I don't say all this to brag, but to just to let you know what a dandy, impressive little caterpillar he has been.

And then God said, "I'm going to make you a butterfly."

A few months ago my husband started to feel the stirrings of change. He felt like it was time to do something different and a little more stable as the father, husband and breadwinner for a family of 6. There were logical reasons for us to change course, but many of the reasons were just impressions, feelings. It makes me wonder what kind of tingly prickles let a caterpillar know when it's time to start its long incubation. A wise friend once told us that my husband's career in acting was like riding a loud and exciting speed-boat. It was fun and fast-paced and fulfilling. But he counseled us that over the roar of the proverbial motor, it was paramount that we listen carefully for the call of the Master to come in to shore. If we could always stay attuned to that quiet call, then we could safely motor on.

Even though we have felt that call, getting in to the shore has been a long, sometimes painful process. First we had to figure out where "the shore" was! And it has changed a few times. We've revised our career and schooling plans, changed where we thought we would move to, or when, and changed and changed again. We've spent lots of time on our knees, lots of time fasting, lots and lots of time discussing ideas, raising problems and concerns, and trying to listen to each other and the Spirit. It has often been very frustrating, and at times my prayers seemed to be, "Just tell us what to do and we'll do it! All we want to know is what to do!" I have truly felt liquified.

But it's starting to come together. We're starting to see the colors of our wings, and I think the result will be glorious.

A New Day

I was up at 5 am this morning. My youngest, almost 1, has been starting his day early the past little while. But it gave me a few extra hours at the beginning of my day, instead of at the end. I find extra hours at the start are often much better spent than extra ones at the end. There's something about a fresh start that makes it feel more like a gift, while hours tacked on to the end of a day always feel stolen to me.

So here's how I spent my morning: starting up the blog I have been contemplating yet resisting for a very, very, very long time. But there are a lot of changes coming in my life, and I might as well add one more change: joining the ranks of the cyber-voiced. Now I can cast my stream-of-consciousness bread upon the waters and see what returns to me in the form of comments, support, sometimes a jibe or two. Not that I really needed something else to do, but it may be interesting for someone out there to know what it's like from my angle of the wide universe, and what this journey feels like.