“See how very much our Father loves us, for He calls us His children, and that is what we are! But the people who belong to this world don’t recognize that we are God’s children because they don’t know Him. Dear friends, we are already God’s children, but He has not yet shown us what we will be like when Christ appears. But we do know that we will be like Him, for we will see Him as He really is. And all who have this eager expectation will keep themselves pure, just as He is pure.” – 1 John 3:1-3 (NLT)
Do you look like your mom or dad? I’m pretty much a carbon copy of my mom—for some of you younger readers –a photocopy. Since most of you reading this have never seen my mom, or me in person—you wouldn’t know that. I often hear my mom’s words coming out of my mouth. I see her in the mirror. I notice her in my actions. It makes sense that I would act like her. I spent my formative years in her presence. Mom and I spent a lot of time together when I was a child. When I was an adult and mom was older—the roles reversed and she lived with me. For those who knew my mom, I’m sure they can see her in me. I’m her child—what more is there to say?
Our Heavenly Father
John wrote believers are children of The Heavenly Father. The world doesn’t recognize the family likeness right now, because, for the most part, the world doesn’t know what God looks like. John admits, we believers don’t fully understand it either. Do you look like your Heavenly Father? Hum. I’ll let you think about that for a moment… I know I don’t most of the time. In fact, I spend almost all the time looking like me.
We are God’s children—John makes that clear. We aren’t like Him yet. The transformation takes time. While it may seem like a long time, since we are eternal beings, it is very short. Our temporal bodies and mindsets throw off our perspective. Caterpillars form a cocoon as part their life cycle. During a time of seclusion, without food or drink, cramped and confined—a marvelous transformation takes place. I don’t know how a caterpillar feels about being in a cocoon, but to me, it doesn’t seem like much fun. There are no leaves to munch, no sun to enjoy. It seems sad and lonely. It seems like an uncomfortable place of change.
After a short time of seclusion, a miracle emerges from that shell. Without any effort, willpower or anxious worry from the caterpillar a change takes place. From that point on, there is no more crawling on the ground. There is no more munching on leaves. The unpleasant cocoon is the place where everything changes. The butterfly that emerges from the cocoon soars on the breeze and drinks sweet nectar from beautiful flowers. The cocoon is a place of drastic change. It’s a period of transition. The believer’s transformation is as dramatic. When Christ appears, we will be like Him. Right now, if you may feel cramped and uncomfortable—take heart—you’re in transition. God’s promise is you will be like Him. The family resemblance will be unmistakable. It takes time. It takes a drastic change.
The wings that develop in a cocoon aren’t meant to stay curled up. You will fly one day. When you look at a luscious leaf and it doesn’t look tasty—know you are in transition. You may not know what God wants you to become but you can rest in His plan, His design and His power to complete the transformation.
Father, help me rest in you when I become anxious. I know You will complete my transformation—someday I will not simply look like You but I will be like You! When I am tempted to fly before my wings are ready, remind me Your timing is perfect. When I become discontent with my cocoon today give me eyes to see beyond today and patience to let You finish Your work in me.