Metamorphosis

This post was originally a message prepared in 2020.  I'm reposting a version here as the theme of metamorphosis I find myself returning to repeatedly. 

Most of you know me as Em, but it might be helpful for my story telling if you know a few other things about me:

• I have 3 kids. 5-year-old (now 9) EJ who started school this year, and 3 (now 6) in October twin girls AJ and CJ
• I’m married to Tim – all around excellent human.
• We pastor a small church of Christ, in Newcastle NSW. 
• We’re from Victoria – and all of our family except for my sister-in-law – resides on the other side of the closed border.
• I work in the world of people & culture, helping organisations and teams flourish. 

I’ll tell you one more thing – and this probably only applies to me 😊 – I like to have an element of certainty and control in my life (just ask my husband 😊)

So this year (2020)… what a year hey. The year has not turned out as I planned. All of the rhythms and structures that have given shape to our lives have been disrupted in one way or another. For me that has included working from home, no daycare for four months, school at home, online church services, ministries suspended, Zoom gatherings including Zoom weddings and Zoom funerals. No holidays overseas, no grandparents visiting, no trips back to Victoria to spend time with friends. The illusion of certainty and control continually being stripped away.

I don’t know about you, but there have been some incredibly hard moments.

I am a words person and one of the hardest things for me, is that I hadn’t been able to put words to what is happening – externally, but more importantly what is happening internally. At least not any words that are appropriate for me to use here 😊.

For a while I felt most at home in the Old Testament - Ecclesiastes – life is meaningless or Lamentations – grieving what is being witnessed. But instead of words – it has been a picture, or maybe a science lesson – that has really helped to shape and bring understanding to what has been taking place within me, within our church ministry, at work, and maybe even far beyond in the Church and the world.

Metamorphosis  - A Greek words that means transformation or change in shape. The most familiar of this process is that of a caterpillar turning into a butterfly. Now, I need to apologise to my year 8 science teacher Mr Gregurke, because I clearly didn’t pay enough attention. So, in case you weren’t paying attention in science either, let me share with you what has captured my attention, particularly what is happening to the caterpillar in the pupa stage after it has crawled into its cocoon.

The caterpillar is not just resting in this phase. Within the safety of a cocoon, the caterpillar digests itself, releasing enzymes that it has been carrying onboard, to dissolve all of its tissue except for what is required to form the features of its adult form – the butterfly. 

This is what I was/have/am feeling. There has been a dissolving and a breaking down of rhythms and structures that we’ve become used to and attached to. I’ve been liquefying into caterpillar soup. 

Maybe you have felt that way this year, or in times of transition in the past. Maybe you haven’t felt this yet, but maybe one day you will. 

Here is a promise – the process of liquifying does not lead to the death of the caterpillar but to the new creation. There is the promise of something beautiful to come, but the metamorphosis process is messy, uncomfortable, and sometimes painful.

Everyone loves a good transformation story – Who doesn’t love some reality tv that involves a transformation be that house reno or makeover. And no one more, than us as followers of Jesus. We love to celebrate the new creation. I love 2 Corinthians 5: 17 "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come:[a] The old has gone, the new is here!". 

The new is here!

We all love the metamorphosis picture. But we want to rush to the point where we burst out of our cocoons as beautiful new creations. What I have been learning and relearning in this season of transition is that the way of Jesus, the way of transformation, is the way of death. A continual breaking down of the old. Old habits, old mindsets, old structures and rhythms that in our caterpillary ways we have come to rely on. There here needs to be a breaking down, a disintegration of the old so that the new can emerge. 

It is not always easy. It is messy, uncomfortable and often painful. 

We don’t have to look far in scripture for this. Eventually, I moved out of the Old Testament and found a kingdom words to reflect the metamorphosis picture in Paul’s words to the Corinthians. 

2 Corinthians 4

7 "But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. 8 We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; 9 persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. 10 We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. 11 For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that his life may also be revealed in our mortal body. 12 So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you.

13 It is written: “I believed; therefore I have spoken.”[b] Since we have that same spirit of[c] faith, we also believe and therefore speak, 14 because we know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus from the dead will also raise us with Jesus and present us with you to himself. 15 All this is for your benefit, so that the grace that is reaching more and more people may cause thanksgiving to overflow to the glory of God.

16 Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. 17 For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. 18 So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."

Just like the caterpillar that carries with it the enzymes that bring about its end as a caterpillar. We carry in our body the death of Jesus and are constantly being given over to death. Death of ego, death of the illusion of control and certainty, death of structures and rhythms and habits that we anchor our sense of security to. Death to bring life, the new creation, which is for our benefit. The most glorious metamorphosis that will one day be brought to completion. 

But the liquefying of the old, and the creation of the new is messy, and it takes time. So what can we do in the meantime?

We can lift our eyes.

It is human (and caterpillar-like) to focus on what is disintegrating and the pain and discomfort that goes with it because we can’t always see what is ahead, or what the new will be. In ourselves, in our families, in our churches, in our work. But I know this. God sees it. I also know that God loves me, our community and church at Mayfield, more than I ever will. He loves our families, communities and churches far more than we ever will. He sees what is ahead. So in whatever transition we find ourselves in personally/organisationally – we are called to fix our eyes on him. "18 So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal".

We can give ourselves over to the process. 

Whether you call it, the metamorphosis of a liquefying caterpillar, refiners fire, or pruning from the vinedresser. The discipleship journey is one of death to make room for life.

"12 So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you".

I’m a bit of a slow learner. Sometimes it takes me a while to realise what is happening, and that’s usually when it is most painful. Once you become aware of what is happening, you can give yourself over to the process. More than that, we can submit to the one who holds us in this process, with hope and confidence that something good, beautiful and purposeful will be on the other side. There’s still mess and discomfort, grief and pain but when we submit to Him we can also experience His presence, freedom, and joy.  

And finally, if I can stretch the analogy just a little further.

We need a safe cocoon.

The caterpillar carries within it the enzymes that bring about its death as a caterpillar. If those enzymes are activated before the safety of the cocoon, it’s just death. But when they are activated within the safety of the cocoon, death brings life. 

If you liquefy without the cocoon, there’s just mess all over the place. We need a safe environment for the disintegration and recreation process. For me, the cocoon is anchoring into my faith and spiritual rhythms, a church community, supportive family and friends, and having some carefully chosen people of wisdom in my life.

God is in the business of change and transformation. As a Christian, I follow a God who is in the business of the transformation of lives and communities. But I wonder if we are honest with ourselves, whether we prefer the messy work of transformation to be done out there in the world - at arm's length, rather than in our own lives, churches and communities, and even less so in our hearts.

I share my story of what it feels like to be a liquefying caterpillar in the hope that you see, as I have, the invitation from God for metamorphosis. That in times of change and uncertainty, you would find encouragement and strength. That you would fix your eyes on Him, and surrender yourself to His process, having confidence in the One who you in that process, and to activate your cocoon so that something more beautiful can emerge, "not only for your benefit but for the glory of God".

 -Em

Photo by Suzanne D. Williams on Unsplash

A different kind of HR

Photo by Christina @ wocintechchat.com on Unsplash

When people find out I'm a HR professional, they love to share their stories, mostly horror stories, of toxic work environments, terrible bosses, and dysfunctional or incompetent HR functions. I laugh along with them as they share funny anecdotes, empathise and encourage them if they find themselves in challenging circumstances, and provide insight and advice when invited to. All the while, I am thinking to myself 'it doesn't have to be this way'. 

Exhibit A

Recently a friend shared a story of a meeting that took place in her workplace. She works in an industry that is extremely pressured and complex. It is an industry that relies on its people to provide effective services to clients. The organisation and the industry are already struggling to attract and retain quality staff and yet the HR person at this organisation told the already struggling team, that if they had a problem - too bad - they could easily be replaced. 🥺🥺🥺

It doesn't have to be this way...

• Efficiency and effectiveness doesn't have to come at the cost of people (who are overworked and undervalued).
• Creating a healthy organisational culture isn't a warm and fuzzy thing that is nice to have. It is an essential component to creating sustainable effective and high-performing teams.
• HR does not have to be an either-or scenario, Team Management or Team Employee. HR can be both/and - A strategic partner for the organisation, to aid in the achievement of the organisation's goals and strategy, and influence and advocate for practices that will build a healthy culture and develop capabilities for individuals and teams to thrive. 

The 'old-skool' approach to HR is what gives the rest of us a bad wrap. An approach to HR that literally thinks about humans as resources and an HR function that operates as the organisational police, or worse, the organisational bully. 

But it doesn't have to be this way. And fortunately, there are growing numbers of HR professionals and organisations that recognise the value of HR as a strategic partner, that can help create cultures that people want to be a part of, and that can champion both people and an organisation's mission, vision and strategy.

Do you have a HR horror story or great HR experience?  Feel free to share it in the comments. 

A fresh page

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

 The cursor blinks at me as I grapple with how to summarise the last three years.

 So much change. 

So much growth and learning, pain and grieving, joy and heartache, the daily grind and adventure. 

And yet, there is so much that has remained constant.  My family and friends who love me generously. The kids who bring chaos, curiosity and fun to our lives. Timmy, continues to be the most wholehearted person I know, enabling those around him to discover more of who God has created them to be. And a God whose love is unchanging, gently guiding and leading through us through the valleys and the mountaintops. 

Now I find myself in a place where I am drawn to start writing again. I give myself permission to jump in, right where we are. No need to summarise the last three years. We'll catch up. It will leak out in the lessons learned, in the parts of me that have grown and changed. In the things that I now hold tighter to and the things that I have let go of. 

And so I open to the next fresh page. The cursor blinking with anticipation of what tomorrow brings. 

Em