Author: Jackie

“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.

All day, I was feeling insignificant. I love my children, and truly enjoyed teaching them as usual. But somehow, my perspective was different.

Usually I view my occupation as an important mission. Perhaps because the newness has faded, possibly because I was having a tired Monday after a busy weekend… whatever the reason, today I wrestled with doubt whether my daily grind is really accomplishing anything of great value.

As my red pen danced over thirteen pages of spelling, and my mind automatically totaled deductions and calculated grades, I was struck by the fact that I have these pairs memorized. For example, 6 incorrect words × 4 points each = 24 points deducted. 24 points off & 76% are partners. This is my fourth year of marking spelling, and I no longer need to subtract in my head… I have the number pairs memorized, because I have repeated this task so often.

In truth, I actually enjoy checking. But today, I was struck by the seeming futility of it. The repetition. And suddenly, my thoughts became a swirling mess of,

“How much red ink have I used over the years? How many more hundreds of spelling words will I mark in my lifetime? And what is my purpose in doing this?”

The thought of spelling books piled up on my desk every Monday for years to come is a little depressing.

As I said, I enjoyed my day. I just felt rather insignificant.

And somehow, I couldn’t find the inspiration to check the language books, so I decided to leave them for tomorrow.

As I locked my classroom and headed out the door I exhaled. “Another day in. Impacting children. But unnoticed.”

I realized then that my perspective needed a shift. Jesus asks us to serve Him faithfully in the little things, and for His glory alone. I am simply His servant, and I don’t deserve to be lauded for anything I do. But that stubborn human nature of mine quietly whispered a longing… for just a hint of recognition.

I determined to rise above this silly notion and regain a positive mindset before I got home. And on that drive, God opened my eyes to see His goodness again.

Golden hour sunlight streamed across the landscape, bathing the crimson forests in a breathtaking splendor.

A flock of seagulls swirled overhead, silhouetted against the sky. Since I wasn’t trying to enjoy a picnic in solitude on the beach, I realized with surprise that they really are uniquely beautiful birds.

Just like that, my perspective shifted. It seemed as though God had sent that entire flock – there were literally hundreds – of seagulls, to teach me a lesson. I saw these birds which I’ve long been prejudiced against in the sunset’s light… and they became beautiful.

And my heart was lifted as I sensed the Spirit breathing His recognition of my day over me. God sees the little tasks I do. The things that seem so insignificant, so futile? God sees me do every one of those things.

If God sees them, they aren’t insignificant – not at all! They are part of the work He has called me to in His kingdom. Not every moment of teaching is a rewarding, fulfilling, heart warming experience. I need to labour in the little things, even though I live for the big moments of success.

Maybe the unnoticed, never ending cycle of checking books is like those pesky seagulls. Illuminated by the Sonlight, they’ll become beautiful.

All I need to do to see that is work for God’s favour alone. He Who called me to the task recognizes the little things I do, and rewards me with His smile of approval in every sunset.

Am I unworthy of recognition? Yes.

But is my work unnoticed? No. Not at all.

In God’s sight, every aspect of my work is significant enough to be worthy of His notice. And so, I will put my heart into each task I’m required to do tomorrow with new purpose, doing it “as unto the Lord.”

Life is rich,

Not only when my heart is overflowing, but also when the joy is deepened with a tug,

With an ache hidden somewhere inside my heart.

Life is rich, not only when the laughter bubbles out with genuity from deep within my soul, but also when I smile, softly, through tears which no one sees.

Life is rich. Not only when things are clearly working out for good, but also when I choose to believe in hope.

Even when doubt questions why I should.

My life is rich when I, though my heart holds sorrow, choose to celebrate and share in someone else’s joy.

Life is also rich when in my own season of joy, I feel another’s pain.

Or in my loss, I am glad to see another’s gain.

Life in God’s will is incredibly rich.

When dreams are coming true. When tears are flowing. Even when my heart is filling with more emotions than I ever thought one person could have.

Life is rich when in the midst of my yearning for something, even when I don’t know what, I realize I am abundantly blessed. And I find myself feeling strangely filled, even though the ache is not gone.

Life becomes sweetly rich when I can smile through the tears and whisper, “I don’t understand, God, but I see and believe that You are good.”

I know richness, because this heart that now pours out a song of praise at His feet…

has known the silence of having no song at all.

My friend, life becomes rich when we learn to see God in all things,

In all circumstances.

Even when the confusion may make it appear as though He is not there, life is rich.

For even when you feel empty, there is richness to be found in knowing that Jesus will never leave you.

Oh, life has its hills and valleys. And I would love to make the journey easier for every struggling person I meet on the way. But when a life is lived in Christ, it becomes rich.

Beautifully rich.

The yearnings, the tears, that ache that never truly disappears – they’re all a part of it. They play an important role in this symphony called life.

Because the good times, the mountaintops, the high notes – they are appreciated much more with the low notes echoing to enhance the music.

Depth adds richness to music, and so do trials to life.

Gratitude is richer when the blessing is recieved after having experienced its absence.

No matter how dark it may seem, or how strong the ache is tonight… remember,

Jesus IS.

Jesus is beside you, loving you, never giving up on you.

And when Jesus is in you, and your life is being lived in Him, you will find this richness regardless of what you are facing.

Life with Jesus will cause you to experience the contrasting emotions of joy and sorrow, fulfillment and aching, but always an incredible peace.

For nothing could be richer than knowing that Jesus has chosen to fill your emptiness with His incredible riches: and even when life is a battleground, you will find your joy in knowing Who fights it for you.

Life can be rich. Beautifully, abundantly, unimaginably rich.

Join me as I walk this journey, singing the music Jesus places in my heart.