I’ve thought a lot about this transformation. The changes in my head, heart, and soul as I travel this road.
Over the last couple years, I’ve changed. Especially in the last several months. All of the changes hurt as they happen. Some I can immediately see the silver lining in. Becoming more compassionate, hurting with those that hurt, trusting God deeply, waiting patiently and expectantly.
Most times, I see this ugliness in myself that I just want to shed. I feel trapped within this cocoon, waiting. Painfully aware of the anger, sorrow, and bitterness that surround me. Functioning at less than half the capacity of energy and drive I used to have. Worn out by daily interactions and observations. Worn out by my own thoughts. Just weary.
I’m still becoming.
I’ll always be becoming. I’ll be shaped by circumstances and my God for my whole life.
I’ll never be done becoming, this side of heaven. There’s hope in this process. Change for the better, deepening and strengthening. Becoming a deep kind of beautiful. I’m not done yet, and Jesus isn’t done yet either.
In the darkness of the cocoon, I’m not sure any of us can be fully aware of what’s to happen next. We wait and change and trust. As I lay restlessly in bed last night, I thought about the presence of Jesus within this place. It’s not always evident. I’m sure my eyes are closed at times. It can feel very isolated. But He’s there, watching me change and have form and become. I find shelter under His great wings.
One day, I will emerge. Done becoming. Beautiful and perfect, yet not caring about beauty or perfection.
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