A day in the life

I found an inchworm in my bowl of berries this morning. It was hidden under the purple-black-blues of the sweet fruits, a ways away from the tart red of the fuzzy raspberries on the right side of my plate.

I took it on my index finger and it wriggled and wormed and rolled around on my pink skin until my dad told me to squish it, but I looked on it with compassion and took it outside to the leafy garden where the little guy inched its body around the jagged edge of a leaf. I watched it move and wondered to myself what a day in the life of an inchworm would look like. I will never know, but it seemed it’d take an entire day for it to find its way around such a small plant. What a change in perspective.

In a sense, I feel like an inchworm edging her way around her budding world. Belonging, but not fully. Seeking, but not (yet) finding. There is some frustration to skirting around the edges of things, halfway in between the altar and the door. The mediocre life is… mediocre, to say the most. I don’t want to get too comfortable because complacency is dangerous. Ideally, I don’t wish to spend an entire day exploring one leaf. But I suppose I am learning humility, to be aware of my smallness. Everyday I am confronted with my many, many weaknesses. Knowing myself instills a fear in me; it is mainly a fear of the future, coupled with the budding (blossoming, actually) excitement of being away from home and surrounded with all sorts of people and activities and experiences. Yet… yet, while I am still that inchworm who has yet to dive into the plant’s core, I will be humble, or pray to be. I want to be humble so that I can be prayerful.

Prayerful about the new, that I may not forget the old. That I may not forget the compassionate hands which brought me out into this leafy garden to explore. Prayerful that I may not fear man over God. Prayerful that I will be discerning about the relationships and opportunities I invest in. Prayerful that I will seek His will at all times. Honestly, all this is too much to ask for from a simple inchworm who would rather bask in the warm glow of the sun and stuff herself with greens. All the same, I know there is a better life. I will never know the day in the life of an inchworm, but I was not created for such purposes. And I am okay with—rather, infinitely grateful for—this truthful reassurance.



4 thoughts on “A day in the life”

  1. I’m 15 years into my life with Jesus and I still feel like the inchworm that hasn’t hit the center of the plant. I haven’t really found what I’m looking for… and I don’t expect to until I see Jesus face to face. Having that expectation delayed releases so much frustration I might have at not getting what I want out of this world. I’m free to actually live in without frustration here, because I know I won’t be fully alive in every way until I’m with Jesus (if that makes sense).

    On complacency, I lived that story for several years and God pulled me out. I find myself longing to go back there at times, just for laziness, but I have grown so much now that I explore the neighboring leaves and am happy seeing God in new places 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. That heaven may not be a mere destination, but a lifestyle… that is what I wish. Thank you always for being so responsive and encouraging. I appreciate it.

    I am looking forward to where the Lord will take me in the next few years. In the end, I am only a pen while He is the author.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. That’s good. And I agree, heaven has to be a lifestyle for us, otherwise it just turns into a retirement plan we have set aside for after death. It loses utility for the heart.

    Absolutely, I always enjoy conversing on WP with other authors about Christ. Thank you for writing back! And I’m sure he has authored a fantastic story for you!

    Liked by 1 person

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