Slightly Obsessed #211: Can a Worm Fly? by Pamela Thorson on 2018-03-29 09:11:14
“He does great things which we cannot comprehend.” Job 37:5 NKJV
The harvest had long passed. As a bitter wind blew in my flower garden, a tiny hard seed fell unnoticed in the black earth. For months it lay unseen. But within its shell, the blueprint that would make it a full-grown tree lay dormant in the cold soil. In the right season, when the sun and the rain had done their work, it pushed up from the ground and reached toward the light, where it would grow and thrive and, one day, bloom.
In amazing metamorphosis, a caterpillar who crawled in the dirt before entering its chrysalis, emerges from its shroud with not the slightest resemblance to what entered the darkness. The worm is gone. From its shell a new creature unfurls the magnificent wings that were woven into gossamer sails and ornately painted by the hand of God as it lay in the stillness.
In a nearby field, a little calf leaves the dark womb of its mother and enters the first light of a new day. For months it has grown unseen as blood and bone and tissue were intricately knitted into the perfect image of its parents.
Another spring has come, bringing new life from dark places and proclaiming once again the reality of God’s power to transform.
Here are the everyday miracles to which we have become a bit too accustomed. Engrossed in our problems, living in the darkness of our sorrows, we walk blindly past the gospel of creation that trumpets the praises of the resurrected Christ. Beaten down by the world’s lies that this is all there is, that nothing ever changes and there is no way out, we resign ourselves to the shadows and the dirt.
But all around us, creation begs to differ.
Darkness is God’s secret place, where He fashions a new creation away from the prying eyes of His enemies. In the chrysalis of the closet, He plans and weaves and forms His beloved into something that will burst forth with joy at the proper season. In the dark our problems seem impossible to solve. But we serve a God of the impossible.
In God’s world, worms sprout painted wings and a little seed produces a tree. While I sit in the dark place feeling sorry for myself, God simply smiles and works.
It is the season of resurrection, after all. The frozen ground must yield to the rising sun. In the glow of rebirth, life once again conquers death. Miracles abound around us, and we remember that winter never wins. Jesus is Lord, and that is enough.
Can God solve my problems?
Can a worm fly?
About Pamela Thorson:
Pamela Thorson is a licensed practical nurse, author, and full-time caregiver. She pioneered in the homeschooling movement from 1982-2006 and authored her first book, Song in the Night, in 2008. Her second book, Out from the Shadows: 31 Devotions for the Weary Caregiver, released in 2014. She resides in the Northwest with her family.
The pain takes us down and drives us to our knees. We long for relief, for a way out. But in the secret place of suffering, we discover that pain is our friend.
Slightly Obsessed #228: The God of the Grateful
My world had just fallen into a pit. We had a young daughter, four other children, and no insurance. I was so sick that I didn’t even know if I could get to the doctor for tests. Despair rolled over us in waves.
Then God spoke.
Slightly Obsessed #227: Release the Beautiful
As we smiled at the people we met on our walk I wondered at the social custom that requires face-to-face congeniality on a bike path among strangers who would soon be in our respective cars fighting over a lane change. It’s easier to be mad at people when we can’t see their faces.
Slightly Obsessed #226: Triune
In its most basic element, our very existence mirrors His Godhead in trinity. Each person enters time and space as three: body, soul, and spirit.
Slightly Obsessed #225: Why Lightning Doesn't Strike the Wicked
The popular radio host was on a rampage, vehemently damning God. He crowned the diatribe by flinging a challenge at God to strike him down at that very moment. He smugly interpreted heaven's silence as proof that there is no God. But what was really happening?
Slightly Obsessed #224: When the Pressure Feels Too Great
The fig I found in a local big box store had already been trimmed into a lovely miniature tree with an unusual trunk. Little did I understand what it takes to train a plant into a bonsai, and what that process would teach me about God.