Mom, what are you thinking about? He takes my hand on a neighborhood walk.
I’m thinking about The Very Hungry Caterpillar, I say.
You see, I feel tight in my skin. As if I’m outgrowing who I used to be so I can make room to become something new.
Do you ever feel that? That tight-in-your-skin sensation?
Similar to in The Very Hungry Caterpillar, life is a journey towards transformation. Birth. Hunger. Eating food translates to experiences. Eating apples and pears are sitting up and crawling. Eating plums are new friends at the playground. Eating strawberries and oranges are understandings and failures. Then came cake and ice cream, pickles and all the rest. Some junk, some sweet. Navigating love and pain. Tension and transition. Sorrow and joy. Then comes love in the form of a leaf. Rest. Magic. And a new creature in the form of a butterfly.
As for me, I’ve eaten and eaten and eaten and now I’m full. And ready for a long nap.
For a while I’ve sensed a stirring. Of what, I’m unsure, but it’s coming. And it has me feeling like my insides have stretched my outsides to max capacity. Like lovely syran wrap. More like months of hard inner work, the kind where He transforms fear and negative self-talk into joy and self-worth.
I was pondering how to escape the syran wrap sensation when a friend sends me a text with this book quote:
“When God promises to bless you, he is saying, “I’m going to make you into everything I ever meant for you to be! It means God is taking every day and every single thing that happens in it – good or bed – to make you stronger, to mend whatever is broken inside, to change you into the person you were always meant to be. Just as a caterpillar is totally changed into a butterfly, being blessed means being totally transformed. God is transforming everything- his broken world- and you.”
Isn’t God’s timing so personal and out-of-the-box?
Sitting at the dirty kitchen table, I stare at her words on my phone.
Pages of The Very Hungry Caterpillar come to mind. Oh how I relate to the little guy- eating and eating and preparing for the day when his exhausted body climbs onto a leaf and prepares for transformation.
I don’t fit in my skin because I’m no longer the same person. Pain and loss and letting go have grown me. This stage feels cramped- it’s full of waiting and stillness and anticipatory wonder at what He is doing, what He is preparing.
As I choose to follow Him toward the redemptive stage, He transforms my people-pleasing habits and the desire to be liked into content thinking and gentle grace. And so I take one step closer toward the uncomfortable but truest sense of me.
I feel tight in my skin.
Transformation is happening. In the working, in the waiting. In the resting and growing.
When I downplay who He is making me to be, I don’t leave room for His mending, His time, His work in the unknown. I want to change myself instead of trusting His process.
I’m tired when I try to force myself into this tight skin that demands more room.
Oh Friend, if I could, I’d pat pat and invite you on the couch cushion next to me.
Maybe you too feel uncomfortable in your own skin. No matter how you feel, please don’t dismiss who you are. You are becoming new. Transformation takes time. And waiting. It takes courage. And it will be worth it.
You are blessed. Now get ready to fly!
And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect. – Romans 12:2