I feel trapped in a small dark place of limited movement and choice. I think of the caterpillar inside the chrysalis and imagine its cry, “Help! I can’t move! Let me out!” Does the caterpillar know its confinement will end? Is it preparing to accept calling and capacities beyond what it currently has?
Perhaps I, too, am captive in a dark, cramped chrysalis. Perhaps my limited endurance and patience are transforming into wings of fragile beauty, and strength to mount winds, traverse hemispheres.
I read the gospel story in which bridesmaids are admonished to burn their lamps until the bridegroom arrives. “Stay alert, because you don’t know the day or the hour.”
Encouraged, I renew my patience, attending Life with all the attentions I have.