“Therefore, if anyone is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.” (2 Corinthians 5:17 NKJV)
I’ve been hard at work this week assembling all the moving parts of a makeshift graduation for my senior class. The pandemic has pushed back our students’ secular ceremony, with a high probability of cancellation. As church family, we are doing what we can to recreate the milestone experience as authentically as possible.
This scripture was my own graduation verse, and really, a life verse since then. When I finished high school a semester before my classmates, I felt like a brilliantly-hued butterfly being let out of a mason jar; I was so excited to fly off into the great big world. I had recently rededicated my life to Christ and in doing so, become an entirely new person. This verse encapsulated my experience and I had it scribbled everywhere as a reminder: I would not go back to my old ways. I never have. I felt as though, before this complete transformation in Christ I was a drab caterpillar, inching my way along the ground. But after my Chrysalis conversion, I had unexpected and glorious wings. I felt bright and alive and freshly unhindered from my past.
Honestly, I have not felt like that Anna in a long time. The tragedy and trauma of the past decade or so has muted my colors and weighted my flight. If losing one parent ages you by ten years then losing both parents ages you twenty. I am different without them.
I had just finished shooting a senior session when my most carefree student spotted it – a dramatic flutter of deep black and bright blue. She squealed like a small child and proceeded to chase the flitting beauty as a ribbon in the wind. Within moments, she had the winged treasure cupped carefully in her hands. Of course, I’d pulled of the lens cap and waited with my camera readied for the shot. She released the stunning creature back into the air and we documented the moment together.
It turns out that butterflies can change colors according to their environments. And honestly, the black and blue butterfly may have been the most breathtaking butterfly I’ve ever seen.
I may not be bright and unhindered anymore, but I can still soar and I can still bring stirring beauty and deep empathy through my story. The Anna of my youth hasn’t flown away forever, she’s merely changed her colors according to her environment. Trauma and loss do that to a person, but we aren’t lesser because of the loss. We are somehow made richer, deeper, more real and approachable. The Jesus that transformed me so thoroughly in high school is still transforming me now. An older, wiser, more compassionate creature is still a butterfly that begets wonder.
“Then He who sat on the throne said, “Behold, I make all things new.” (Revelation 21:5 NKJV)
Lord, You carry us through changes and seasons. You recreate us and we continue to be grateful for Your ongoing redemption in our story. May we refuse to give up. Give us grace to keep fluttering towards You. Amen.