There is such breathtaking promise in a green chrysalis.

I am entirely captivated by the majestic monarch and its caterpillar to butterfly transformation process. Squeals of joy rupture from within to find tiny yellow, black and white banded larva crawling upon my milkweed plants.

Yes, I missed this somewhere in my growing up years.

Originally, it was the beauty of the butterfly that I longed to see fluttering and sipping sweet nectar in my private space. “We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.” (Maya Angelou) This creature’s radical body transformation is simply stunning – a biological miracle!

But you knew that…

So, I am going to make this a bit more personal. Like the caterpillar, a person must surrender to the chaos birthing within before transformation can occur. Ouch, so difficult for someone who has spent a lifetime developing unique strategies and adaptations to optimize survival – against chaos. It involves a willingness to put to death what you have been doing all of your days to experience true abundant life.

It will require engagement in faith, hope and love with The Creator God who speaks forth the metamorphosis.

In that moment when we hear our name and the invitation for change, surrender is the most difficult choice. For yes, unlike the caterpillar we have been given options. And all that is humanly within us hates struggle, sorrow, pain and death. It may feel like our skin is too tight and we are hanging upside down with no rescue. Our insides churn and feel like goo. We know that somewhere our true selves remain and concurrently a phenomenal change is occurring. You see, we too are destined for transformation.

“Grace is the voice that calls us to change and gives us the power to pull it off.”

I wondered if I’d grow weary of our small butterfly-friendly habitat.   I have not. Transformation fills my being with a great joy. Caterpillars, people and yes… even my own.

I hope to see you one day… because just when you think you might die, you are sipping nectar and flying high.


Robyn Whitaker

Robyn Whitaker lives in Texas with her beloved husband of 32 years. She has an adventurous heart that is learning to breathe. Lover of truth, seeker of story, aspiring author and newborn dreamer, this mother of three is in search of redemption and living her Kingdom purpose. Robyn writes here. n