It’s been ten years since I told Jesus I do.

A short ten years. In that decade I’ve watched a lot of other people get baptized.

And do you know, after they come up we always sing Now I belong to Jesus. But on the day I came up it was Heaven Came Down. Just that once for some reason. Oh what a wonderful, wonderful day.

And on that day Heaven did come down. And glory filled my soul.

But some days it’s just too much. And that filled soul just wants to weep.

When there are people dying of cancer. Or when three families stagger under the loss of their loved ones and whole communities grieve their stunned hearts out. Or when a mama leaves early and her babies are little, so little. Or when a baby leaves early and her mama is left just a shell. When cities riot. When a dear friend’s heart is breaking. When a country falls apart.

And today the preacher talked about a caterpillar. Tucked up tight in its cocoon, all wrapped up in there.

Clinging.

A thread.

Holding right there tight to the branch. Secure, that tree keeps the cocoon from falling…

…right on down into nothing.

Into death.

Those strong men today telling Jesus I do, up out of the clean, getting stronger. They didn’t fall. Slippery floor they stand and against the stagger they stood and they said Now, I belong to Jesus.

And then that cocoon…

…oh what emerges. The butterfly…flying, and don’t we all know that story? That beauty of when Heaven came down?

And we weep with joy.

But we weep with sadness too. At the weight of what death leaves behind. The shell.

But when it emerges, when we watch for it, if we look and see, search for it with all our hearts….

…in the falling we can still find the beauty. Right there in the weight of it all, right there in the sadness…

…glory fills our souls.

…weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning. Psalm 30:5

© Cassandra Rankin, This Crazy Little Farm