Dragonfly

In the faint light of a cool and certain world, three nymphs in a pond clung to a reed. In somber tones they discussed the departure of a friend. Why did he leave us? The young one asked. Seems strange to leave the world we know for one we don’t. I can’t imagine a better life than ours. Why don’t they ever come back?

The elder spoke. No one has ever returned from above, so we don’t know what it’s like. When you look up, all you see is a distant light, a bluish haze at the edge of the void.

As his friends descended back to the mud, the elder remained. The urge drawing him to the surface grew stronger. He began to ascend the reed, slowly towards the light. Eventually he broke the surface into the blinding sun. Groggy from the climb he stopped near the top of the reed and fell into a deep sleep.

When he awakened he felt he couldn’t breathe. The shell that had protected him for so long had become too small. Then just as it was squeezing the life from him, unexpectedly the center of his back cracked open and four wet gossamer wings emerged, unfolding majestically into the warmth of the sun. Then his body, with unforeseen skill climbed free from its shell, out into a new world. Soon the wings dried off as his eyes adjusted to a new world, unimagined — a world of dazzling colors and strange new shapes.

Then, as if he had always done it; his wings began to move at an incredible speed, alive with power, effortlessly lifting off the reed he flew. He hovered and darted back and forth across the surface of the pond, wondering about his friends below. This was what he was meant to be. To soar in the light above and begin his true life.

And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit. -2 Corinthians 3:18

The life of a Christ follower, if it is anything, is a life of transformation through faith in action. Spiritual formation is the process of Christ’s likeness forming in us — His attributes of unconditional love, sacrifice and righteousness becoming ours. This is the miraculous transformation that we are called to and made for; practical as it is mysterious.

A few years ago I was at the funeral of my brother’s wife’s grandmother, Freda. She had lived the life of a Christ follower. Her funeral was a celebration of her as a beloved child, a young woman, wife, mother, grandmother and great grandmother, now passing into the next realm.

This realm, Christians believe, is an incredible place, found in the fullness of the presence and glory of the living God — for all eternity. Though finer details are subject to speculation, by faith we look forward to an eternity with no tears, in a place filled with the brightest light of truth and love. A realm beyond our wildest imagination.

At the funeral, many of Freda’s family shared fond memories and stories about her abundant love and other-centeredness. Then the Pastor shared a story about the metamorphosis of a Dragonfly. I loved his metaphor and its revelation about the mystery and splendor of eternal life. About an existence we are destined for — one we never fully appreciate in the here-and-now.

When I looked further into this illustration, I found other versions, stories and poems. Perhaps this analogy has been used for centuries to tenderly explain death and offer hope to grieving survivors. For me it was a tale about spiritual transformation and a reference to the great divide between this life and the next.

I find it remarkable that nature offers an abundance of great metaphors amidst the splendor and complexity of God’s creation.  We are so blessed with this revelation. God speaks without words.

The coolest thing about spiritual transformation is that as we grow in Christ, He grows in us. We don’t have to wait for the next life to experience or understand His power. As we change, becoming citizens of another kingdom, we are increasingly given eyes to see and ears to hear. Enabled to understand the truth.

Ours is not a blind faith, it is a faith realized in our daily transformation, as we follow Christ. Eternal life beyond our wildest hope waits for us, but it is only by faith that we truly see beyond the pale.

We live by faith not by sight. -2 Corinthians 5:7

Daily reading: 2 Kings 11–12; 2 Timothy 2; Hosea 3–4; Psalm 119:121–144

A Father and a Son

Sow your seed in the morning, and at evening let your hands not be idle, for you do not know which will succeed, whether this or that, or whether both will do equally well. – Ecclesiastes 11:6

Numbers 1; Psalm 35; Ecclesiastes 11; Titus 3

We never know what might become of our small acts of kindness. By sharing our love, each of us play a part in the restoration of God’s kingdom. The coolest part, is God does most of the work. When we submit to God’s will, we are more able to be used — and as we are used, we are transformed in the cycle of spiritual rebirth.

One morning when I was six, my dad woke me while it was still dark and we drove to the Boynton Beach Pier. I was half a sleep and filled with wonder about this strange new pre-dawn world and with the joy from being alone with my father. Just the two of us, on our own adventure, walking hand in hand out onto the old pier. Together we wandered into the coolness of the early morning, before the sun rose up out of the ocean.

At the end of the pier, my father crouched down, looked into my eyes and asked, “do you want some hot chocolate?”

“Yes!” I said.

The chill of the morning had penetrated my skinny frame, and as I sipped hot chocolate with my father, I felt the warmth that comes from security, and sugar.

After dropping my fishing line over the side rail I looked down and saw fish of all sizes swimming in the bluish green water, circling in and out of the range of our bait. Eventually I got one on the hook. As I reeled it in, I looked up at my father’s warm peaceful smile. “That’s a red snapper Ricky, you caught a red snapper!” The world was a good place then.

My dad built a boat in our garage that year. We worked on it together when we had the time. Often after dinner, before I went to bed, me in my pajamas and him in his Bermuda shorts and a t-shirt. Occasionally I would hand him a tool or remove a scrap of wood, making me feel as if we had built it together. I knew that one day we would ride in the boat with my brothers out to the sea, through the treacherous currants of Boynton Inlet that had swamped bigger boats and better captains.

Working with my dad was an absolute joy; I was an important part of something big, just not in the way I had thought. Since then I have come to realize helping my father build a boat was like helping God grow His kingdom. God, in His love for me, and in His infinite wisdom, includes me in His work when I am willing. The amazing thing is this: when I surrender my selfish ambitions to the will of God, He does his best work in me.

It has been said, through the relationship with our fathers we first begin to understand God. And while I believe that God can reveal himself through anyone, it is those closest to us that often have the greatest impact. I know not everyone has, or has had, a positive relationship with their father, and like mine, this relationship can be cut short through divorce and death. Even so, it is by acts of love and compassion between people, that God reveals Himself.

Each of us has the power to show God’s love. And when we do, we are helping to share the Gospel, to lift each other up and grow God’s kingdom. Sharing God’s love is one way we can find joy and hope in His will.

God please enable me to share your love with my children and everyone I have contact with. Amen.