Of Butterflies & New Beginnings...

 On my way to lunch with a friend, I have some extra time, so I stop off at a local park. The sun is peaking through thick clouds after days of spring showers and everything grey, and I'm hankering for some fresh air and a little movement of the body. Getting outside in the peacefulness of nature has become an effective coping mechanism for me in helping manage my anxiety and depression issues, especially in higher stress weeks like this one. As I'm making my way along the path, a guy and his dog pass by me and we exchange greetings. I breathe in deeply and take in the rush of the nearby creek. 

A few steps toward the bridge that spans the creek, I notice a butterfly gracefully head by me. It's the first one I've seen this spring. The significance isn't lost on me either: butterflies are often associated with reminders of loved ones who have passed and today, I'm grieving a loss from several years past on this exact date. I smile. A gift timely gift from God indeed. As I continue walking, the transformative picture of a butterfly feels strangely appropriate. It's a fitting image of how my personal life has been the last 2-3 years: hidden, quiet, life-changing. Back in 2022, I stepped away from a pretty public job and close to eighteen years in some form of community service and ministry. I was burned out in every way. Years of trying to serve the public while nursing my own wounds finally caught up with me, along with the fact that some issues at work had taken every last ounce of confidence and enthusiasm I had and buried them in a pile of unrealistic expectations. I needed a break... badly.  

And so, like a caterpillar, I created my own chrysalis - a bubble of sorts - where I could give myself the healing I so desperately needed. I set boundaries with friends. I limited my social events. I spent a lot of time resting. Wonderfully resting. And it occurred to me along the way that we've stopped giving ourselves permission to have seasons like this: times when we exit the insanity of life and just get down the bare minimum we need to maintain or be responsible for and simply focus on the art of being. The wonder of being human. The privilege of being a creation of God. In this cocoon, I found I had only enough strength to put into growth. I could barely do the next right thing for myself, let alone be responsible for holding all my relationships together or carrying others burdens. In choosing to enter this necessary hidden season, I was aware that I might lose some friends who lacked understanding or that I might have to pass up some opportunities simply because I didn't have it in me to emotionally or physically do any more. All my energy had to be placed into finally giving myself the help I'd put off for so long. And, just as with a butterfly, this period of transformation couldn't be rushed. Hurry me out of this place and I would be crippled. 

Coming into this year, I felt God urging me to break out of the chrysalis: that it was time to prepare to fly. As butterflies emerge from the security of their cocoon in a slow, deliberate process, I've intentionally taken my time to come out of the bubble and ready my wings. I've prayerfully considered which opportunities to take first and which to pass up, what friends to get closer to and which ones to let go of, which hard conversations need to happen and which ones are better left unsaid, which things to take with me into the next chapter and which ones to leave behind. Because it's been obvious that I can't enter this new beginning God is writing and expect to do things the old way. I'm not the same person who went into this period and I can't treat life like it's going back to how things were before... because it's not and it never will be. God and I starting afresh, building something different on the ruins of what used to be there. 

I suppose I thought coming out of this hidden season would be easier. While I'm excited for the opportunities and relationships that are forming and thankful that God is giving me the chance to dream again on the other side of loss and pain, there was a quiet intimacy in this period that was safe and predictable. Breaking out of that bubble and reentering the hustle and noise of life in the public eye once more feels a little jarring, to be honest. Like having been in a dark building and then walking out into the sun, my emotional and spiritual sight is having to adjust. Like I'm trying to merge two different people into one: I still have the experience and skills from my previous work but I'm a very different person on the inside than when that chrysalis first began to form a couple years ago. Bringing those old skills and that knowledge forward while honoring who I am now is proving to be more challenging than I expected. 

It's become clear to me that we, as a society, have failed miserably in telling people that a season of stepping away is somehow shameful and wrong. We've created such a demanding expectation of what the "good life" ought to look like that we think someone choosing to give that up... to not educate and work yourself to the bone until retirement and enjoy a few nice years before you die... is un-relatable. To take a gap year from school, forego a big promotion in order to spend more time with family, leave a job you hate to go do something you truly love, disconnect from technology on a semi-frequent basis to be more present to your life can be portrayed as irresponsible and out-of-touch. Yet... what if these steps are actually what it takes to cultivate the life you really want? 

Deciding to go the butterfly way and leave behind the demands of a public position in ministry for the peace and healing I so desperately needed is a choice I'd gladly make again and one that I will never regret. Yes, it cost me some relationships and opportunities. Yes, not everyone was supportive or understanding. Yes, some tried to talk me out of it or rush me back into things before I was ready. But I knew that if I was going to last in ministry and continuing to share my story with all the effectiveness it deserved, I had to listen to my body and my spirit and lay down certain temporary things in favor of lasting ones. It was a trade I'd happily make again if I ever needed to and it proved to me that a season of hiddenness isn't actually as wild and uncomfortable as it seems. Sure, it takes some adjustment - especially when you've been used to a schedule or position that required you to be seen and heard and known and busy constantly - but once you start to get a taste of what it means to leave behind the noise and start to tune into the voice of God, you find that He is always speaking and you were missing out on a lot because you were letting it be drowned out by the pressures of our hectic world. 

Maybe you're headed into a chrysalis season... 

Maybe you're coming out of one... 

Maybe you're right in the middle of it... 

Whatever stage you find yourself in, I want you to know that it is a noble thing to embrace the butterfly way. To embrace a time in your life where all is boiled down to the basics and both your time and energy go into cultivating the healing and resetting that your inner self is craving. Even Jesus got away from the crowds frequently to pray to His Father and take a breath. That should be all the permission you need to choose the hidden path for a time. If it was good enough for Him, it should be more than beneficial for you. Take whatever time you need here; there is no rush. To hurry this season and wish to be somewhere other than where you're at is to miss the miracle that's being formed here. In the right time - His time - you will emerge from this a new person who can see the world with fresh eyes and meet its demands with a more balanced perspective. Until then, be well and peaceful where you are: here... now... in this cocoon of love that the gentle hands of God are hiding you away in.