I'm going to be a bit cryptic here and make you wait for the result. First, let me take you back a few months to Sukkot. Oooh time travel. Doesn't that sound fun?
Our first Sukkot was like a tidal wave at my house. Well, for me it was. For my husband and children it was like preparing for Disneyland. Excitement is not a strong enough adjective for what they felt about camping out with their friends from synagogue and participating in this fun time of family fellowship. Me, I was bracing for an emotional tsunami.
Nope, camping isn't my thing. However, for me it's more than just a girly dislike of bugs and an aversion to sleeping on the ground. In 1998 I was a survivor of rape, all of which took place inside a tent while camping with a group of college students.
I considered myself strong and I did view myself as a survivor, but (let's not pretend) part of that strength came from avoiding any situation that took me back in time, triggered memories or stirred up old fears. I guess Yahweh didn't want me to hide anymore. He wanted me to face my fears head on and be stronger for it. At the time, I wasn't sold on the idea.
Before Sukkot my grandmother sent my oldest daughter caterpillars so she could enjoy the entire life process of a butterfly right in our own home. Wouldn't you know those little critters were just about to emerge when we were packing up for Sukkot. Afraid the cat would kill them in our absence and not wanting to miss the best part of the process, we took them along with us.
The first night in the tent I was on edge. I needed to set up the structure inside the tent and arrange who was where (really, where I wasn't). I spent more time in the tent than I had expected to just trying to acclimate myself to the environment and trying to feel safe.
Just prior to the trip I had asked a fellow artist to pray for me and she gave a very beautiful insight about tents in the wilderness being a shelter, a picture of G-d himself protecting His people from the elements. I tried to think of Him as the tent and remove the fear, but sometimes (even despite our best efforts) healing doesn't occur just because we want it to or because we think we're ready.
I began to relate to those butterflies twisting and fighting in their chrysalises. Their twitching eagerness for freedom was familiar as I was equally uneasy in my desire for freedom.
As the days passed I began to feel subtle changes in myself. I was facing huge personal challenges like sitting around a campfire with my family, sleeping through the night, and actually feeling at peace.
One day my Mom and I ran home to check on the cat. When we arrived back at the campground the first butterfly had emerged. There was a red substance all over the netting that resembled blood. Breaking out hadn't been easy or clean. It was brutal and messy, maybe even painful. As she fluttered around I was mesmerized by her beauty.
The dialogue between me and Yeshua became richer that day. I began to really pray like I never have before. By the time the last butterfly emerged the net was a mess, but somehow I felt as free as they were. We waited a week to let them loose. The last one didn't seem to want to leave the net, but I coaxed it onto my finger and eased it out. It rested there awhile and I wondered if it would ever fly away.
I felt like G-d was telling me something in that. Being free can seem scary when you've held onto a pain so long. I could feel Him telling me that it's okay to breath, to let go of it, to fly.
When the little beauty took flight I could help but watch a while until she was well out of sight.
Then I did something really silly. Super silly. I did what so many of us do (if we are honest). I packed up the messy red paper towel and the old shells they had worked so hard to free themselves from. I placed them in a plastic baggie and I saved them. Yup, I saved them. Guess where . . .
In that smelly art box.
You see, I guess we aren't meant to save pain like a memento, our own or another's. It only lessens the victory and cheapens the moment of release when everything suddenly made sense.
I took a picture and threw the smelly bag away, then I created this piece of art from the photo. Oh and bonus . . .it kinda looks like a heart doesn't it? You know it's hard to accept when we are going through a struggle, but as you develop and heal you will eventually see G-d's love in each trial. He shapes us through each experience. Though I wouldn't wish my painful experience on anyone, or think of it as positive, I do see how G-d used it to grow me into the woman He wanted me to be and I can be thankful for that. He loved me through the pain and through the struggles when I all but cursed Him in my grief and lack of understanding. It was a love that understood and wouldn't walk away. That's huge!
If you can relate to these feelings, these hurts, or this growth, remember it is okay to throw away the dirty rag of the past. Accept a clean future and rise above circumstances that were beyond your control. Please let Yahweh guide you in this and don't try to do it alone. You can never fully heal without His tender guidance. Let Him expose the areas that are still bruised and wounded and invite Him to keep bringing to your attention those areas where He is still at work. It is a process. It can be messy, maybe even painful, but trust me- it is worth it."I am so joyful in ADONAI! My soul rejoices in my God, for he has clothed me in salvation, dressed me with a robe of triumph, like a bridegroom wearing a festive turban, like a bride adorned with her jewels."
Isaiah 61:10 (CJB)
