“He has made everything beautiful in His time.” Ecclesiastes 3:11 NKJV

For the past three weeks, I have had a blue sticky note at the side of my classroom. The note was affixed to a jar containing a monarch chrysalis, and read: “Please, do not touch. A miracle is taking place before our eyes!”

A student had brought the caterpillar to school, much to the excitement of us all. Within a few days, it had munched an incredible amount of milkweed, then formed its chrysalis.

Google told me we would need to wait 10-14 days for our butterfly, an incredibly long time to my eager little people. And as you may have noted, the sticky note held its position in my classroom for three full weeks. Around the two-week mark, my students started doubting if we were really going to get a butterfly at all. I began humming the song “In His Time,” more frequently. I felt rather foolish as I would walk by the chrysalis singing, “In His time, in His time… He makes all things beautiful, in His time…” only to see students glancing at me with an odd expression on their faces.

Friends encouraged me not to give up, however; some late season caterpillars remain in their chrysalis until spring. They sense the need to wait until warmer weather returns before they emerge. The jar was positioned by my window, probably a rather cold location at night, so this idea seemed reasonable.

Well, today I unlocked my classroom and was met by a wave of warm, dusty smelling air. Evidently, the heat was turned on over the weekend, and all of the dust from my heater blew out with the first usage of the season. I crossed over to open a window for fresh air… and saw a dark blur against the lid of that jar.

I gasped. That chrysalis which I had resigned myself to hosting in grade 4 until spring, had opened at last! Apparently the warm air blasting from the heater felt like spring breezes to that chrysalis. The butterfly was not too happy in that jar… I removed the lid, but soon saw the damage was done. The butterfly had injured its wings trying to escape the jar, because no one had been there to let it out. It also was partially stuck in its chrysalis, rendering it unable to move freely.

Bracing myself, I prepared to explain this to my students as gently as possible. Thankfully, they accepted it well, and the beauty of the butterfly did cause great excitement in spite of the fact that it wasn’t what we hoped for.

Now, I’m pondering the rich, heartbreaking beauty of this whole experience. We wait for things in life. We envision beautiful things and hope to experience them. We peer anxiously at the chrysalis, and although we cannot see what’s inside, the allure of mystery and the thrill of hope makes it appear beautiful.

Eventually, we start to question if God really is going to bring any beauty out of this after our waiting. Or if we’ll ever be done waiting. The milkweed in the jar has grown moldy… and it seems like that butterfly should be here by now.

Then finally, finally, that chrysalis breaks open. Our dreams are now faced with truth, and we watch with anticipation as the gift unfolds. What if it isn’t what we planned? What if that butterfly is crippled?

What if, like the broken wings on grade four’s monarch, my dreams are broken?

That butterfly is still beautiful. It demonstrated complete metamorphosis, and the students will remember that far better than if only I had taught them. The anticipation and awe each student has experienced because of it is not erased just because it is crippled. The intricate markings on its wings are there for us to enjoy. Can we see the beauty, in all our disappointment?

When our plans change, when our hopes unfold with broken wings and don’t soar to the heights we anticipated… can we find the beauty hidden in those circumstances? We waited so long. We hoped and prayed for weeks, months, or years. Then, the unknown is met with truth. If reality is not what we expected or dreamed of, does that mean God has not fulfilled His promise? Where is the good which He promised to bring out of all things?

Perhaps, there is another stage of metamorphosis to go through. Butterflies have only four; human souls can be tested so often on their journey to ever-increasing beauty. God is near us in our valleys. His Presence is felt more closely when we rely on Him for our strength. When we are broken, beauty is found even there: in the love Jesus showers on us.

Your dreams may not turn out like you longed for them to. But even broken wings contain a special kind of hidden beauty.