One look at the bookshelves in my study, or those in the basement, or those in the guest room . . . well, you get the idea. I love books. Of all kinds. Have since I was a kid old enough to check out my weekly maximum of intriguing titles from the small, local library.
A second glance would reveal something else—many of those books have to do with topics I hope will help me become a better person. A better Christian. A kinder friend. A more honest and humble human being. Nothing wrong with that. Or is there?
First of all, there is a potential red flag with the whole idea of “better.” “Better” than who or what? Even if my plumb line is self, the concept of “better” is subjective, too often based on some unrealistic understanding of one’s strengths and weaknesses.
The second concern is that while my focus may truly not be on being “better”, or “better than someone else”, I must also resist the temptation to make myself into something I am not, or who I think I should be.
So, what’s the big difference between transformation and makeover?
Transformation is about the pupa within the chrysalis becoming a butterfly, not trying to make itself into a camel. Additionally, the transformation that occurs in order for the beautiful butterfly to emerge is nothing short of a physiological miracle, one the growing butterfly cooperates with, but does not try to make happen on its own.
Back to all those books. To have a desire to be transformed is not the same as making the choice to do a personal makeover. All those stories, the guidelines the authors offer, are simply the raw material from which I glean nourishment and encouragement for my soul and spirit.
Like the pupa, the chrysalis, and the butterfly, I cannot do the transforming—only God can. What I can do is make myself available for him to work within me. That takes a lifetime of learning to listen to the Divine, acknowledge that I am not God, and with a grateful heart, accept that the mystery of this one life I’ve been given was none of my doing, beginning with those first moments in my mother’s womb.
Grow on, beautiful butterfly!
