It is as round as a quarter when rolled up in a
ball. When it walks across the road it is the length
of a broken in half Crayola crayon.
It is black and furry. Yes, furry with lots of
little legs. These tiny limbs move it slowly,
traveling ever so diligently in the direction only
Like us, when someone new approaches, they curl up,
protecting themselves. You can hold them, but they
won’t emerge right away. It takes time.
Weightless they feel, alive though they are and
reminders to us to slow down, take the long road,
and enjoy the scenery. It embodies patience and
If it survives the dangerous journey, the end is a
beautiful display of color. Not only color, but
wings, which will stretch wide, allowing it to fly
The uncertainty is allegory for creativity. If you
seek to be beautiful, if you seek to be transformed,
if you seek to be yourself—we must go walking.
We can learn from the silence with which it walks.
Though the body’s busy, the softness remains loud.
It walks not only with body, but also with being.
It walks gently. It walks tenderly, reverently,
while preserving the passage of time. Despite its
hair-raising appearance, it walks joyfully through
To this furry friend, understanding comes not in the
conclusion but during the walking. Speed is not a
priority. To walk on the earth is to see into the
life of things.
This is a process. At times it may feel as if we
know not where we are going. Other times, we see the
destination in sight. We, like the caterpillar, are
undergoing a transformation. What we have received
is life, a gift from God. This breath is an energy
that cannot be destroyed, but only altered or
With this breath, like the wiggles in a caterpillar, we embark on a
quest, to evolve throughout a cosmic twine. “Angelic horses, body
and soul is chariot; Larvae and insects, keep planets in balance;
Butterflies evolves into eternal art, and that humble caterpillar
becomes infinity's canvas.”
And when it all becomes too much, when you feel as if you can’t go
on: remember this: just when the caterpillar thought “I am incapable
of moving,” it became a butterfly.
Of course, this transformation, this liberation, can’t occur unless
we uncurl from our hesitations and stretch our legs, and walk, or
crawl, with faith, toward hope…
[Pastor Adam Quine of First Presbyterian Church in Lincoln]