What about this notion of “human metamorphosis”? Does it happen do you think, and if so, when? At the point of death as we leave our physical bodies behind? Perhaps it is decided when we are yet spirits, long before we ever appear in this world? Perhaps our time on earth is for working out that decision in the course of our caterpillar years?
I, for one, can identify with crawling around like the critter in a poem from my childhood that went like this: “The centipede was happy quite, until frog in fun said, ‘Pray, which leg comes after which?’ This threw her mind in such a pitch, she lay distracted in a ditch, considering how to run.”
I was happy, quite, but I was not ALIGHT. When I came to end of my “self,” Christ entered in Person and led me into a cocoon of conversion. Oswald Chambers says, “We do not enter His Life by imitation; we enter into it by its entering us.” Jesus Christ gives us His Life when we willingly crucify our self. Crucifixion first; then comes Resurrection.At least, that’s how the Life of Christ came into me. Paul says, “I die daily,” and so do I. The Quiet is my cocoon: the womb of the morning, so to speak, where my little wings are strengthened every single day.
What about you? Have you been given wings? Have you flown the coop of human bondage? Chime in if you care to share!