Caterpillars; they spend all their life busy eating. Finding food, eating it, digesting it; a life’s work. Then retreat into their cocoon. A hidden, secret life.
We devour ideas like hungry caterpillars. Worry and fret. Constantly seeking more to fuel our over busy minds.
But we’ll never worry and fret ourselves into becoming a beautiful butterfly.
We need to stop, retreat. Lord, help us to let go, to rest in Thee, and accept the changes that we can prepare for but cannot bring about.
I see a world
of many, many things
Stones and cans and walls and junk
Trees and plants and flowers
Birds that fly
And fish that swim
And things that walk the earth
Then I think
But what am I?
This thing we call
Lord, I’m made of the same stuff as all these things
Yet fashioned in your image.
A juxtapostion too hard to comprehend.
Help me to live worthily
Of all I’m called