“Pillarcaters” and “Flutterbys”.
I’ve heard both mangled pronunciations escape the mouths of my children when they were young. It sounds so sweet, these mixed up words spoken in childish whispers of awe and wonder.
Kids notice little things, probably because they are little themselves. There’s a kinship in the smallness. Chubby fingers reaching for plump, fuzzy caterpillars. Open palms confidently beckoning colorful winged butterflies to rest there for a closer inspection.
I grew out of noticing the small things in an effort to be a “grown-up”, then thankfully repented and grew back into it when I had children. The wonders of all the world can be found in the smallest of things.
That was why, on a warm summer day, something small caught my eye as I made my way to the back door of my home. As I neared the threshold, I passed an old pile of boards along the side of the house, leftovers from a project. They had been sitting by the back door for a while, the weathering effects of the elements showing in the graying, cracked wood.
And there it was.
Almost blending in with shades of gray and brown, the tiny cocoon hung by a thread to the wide side of a single board. I bent down for closer inspection, curiosity rising. It was perfect and intact, proof of its hidden cargo being alive and well. The protective pod, smooth on one side, spikes protruding from the other, held a secret.
I was determined to find out what it was.
I snapped a quick picture, then entered the house, forgoing chores in favor of a little caterpillar research. It didn’t take long. Scanning the search results, I landed on an almost identical picture to the one I’d just taken. Mystery solved! It was the cocoon of the Spiny Elm Caterpillar.
This particular caterpillar is not rare, but I had never seen one before. And this is the kind of caterpillar that isn’t easily forgotten. He’s a looker. Black with a sprinkling of white spots and red splashed along its back, his most striking features are the spiky barbs running down his back and sides. Not exactly a soft, fuzzy guy. His whole outfit screams, “Stay away!” I was smitten.
A little more research showed the metamorphic climax of the caterpillar’s existence. My mysterious cocoon was the dressing room of the Mourning Cloak Butterfly. Soon, the resident would emerge to unfurl brand new wings of a deep, velvety purple, edged with vibrant blue spots and a rim of gold. A cloak fit for a king.
From caterpillar to butterfly, this insect is a riot of color. But something else about this guy struck me. He has many amazing features, such as his arsenal of spines on proud display. He also has some disturbing details, like the fact that he cannibalizes his siblings after hatching. But of all the information I gleaned, it is his name that captured my attention the most.
The Spiny Elm Caterpillar. Stay with me here.
One day, he’s rolling along, munching on leaves, when an overpowering instinct kicks in.
A force beyond his control takes over.
The cocoon is made and the transformation begins. A reverent hush descends. Stillness like unto death overshadows. But deep within, something exciting is brewing, hidden in the raspy layers. When complete, new wings will tremble and unfurl, testing their strength in the summer air.
And it will have a new name.
The old life of the Spiny Elm will be past. It will be a new creature altogether, with a new name. The Mourning Cloak butterfly will no longer eat the leaves of its bygone days. Now, its desire will be for the sap in the trees, ripe fruit and nectar daintily sipped from flowers. It will soar on warm summer breezes, experiencing a freedom it never knew as the Spiny Elm Caterpillar.
People aren’t caterpillars. Or butterflies, for that matter. But a similar metamorphosis of the soul is possible.
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” 2 Corinthians 5:17
In Christ, we transform.
He creates something new out of us.
We have a new name.
One of my favorite songs this past year has been “I Am Not My Own” by Keith & Kristyn Getty and Skye Peterson. There’s a line in it that states, “He declares my standing, and He declares my state, so I will know myself by the name He gave.”
Do you know your new name?
I’ll tell you. Lean in close… are you ready? Here it is.
HIS.
You’re His. His child. His beloved. His own. You belong to the Lord. Fully known, fully loved, wanted and treasured.
2 Corinthians 5 goes on to say that since we’re His, we should carry that message to others. Just as He transformed you, He desires to transform others.
New creatures.
New names.
And even Creation testifies, reminding us, whispering of truth that is revealed like the unfurling wings of the Mourning Cloak Butterfly.
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Longing & Belonging 
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