Mystery of Life

Approaching a full moon, and once again there is magic to be found in these evenings. The frustrations are forgotten and in their place a curious peace wrapped me in its embrace last night as I sat in the gazebo enjoying the night chorus of tree frogs. A quiet peacefulness inside my head, as though I was floating on a breeze, weightless, so totally relaxed. No earthly idea where such a peace had mysteriously come from. But it was delicious, and I savored it, for the first time in my life appreciating such a state of calm. Perhaps someone had offered up a prayer for me.

And then the discovery. Something soft as I brushed past the post holding one of the deck lamps. I retrieved a flashlight to see what I had touched, and beheld the wonder of a cicada emerging from its crispy brown shell. Suspended in half life. Was it alive? A slight movement of a tiny, fragile leg. I watched, mesmerized. Another quiver. I held my breath, caught in the mystery of life unfolding, transforming.

Gradually, an invisible life force silently pulsed energy into this new creation. Minutes stretched unhurried. A slight breeze rustled the leaves overhead. Almost imperceptibly the creature pushed its soft body out of the shell, soft wrinkled wings unfolding tentatively, hanging limp. Claws clasped the neck of the dry shell, while it straddled its former home, pausing to allow the warm night air to harden its vulnerable new body.

Instinctively the cicada turned its wings in slow motion, strengthened from the struggle, now air drying and growing rigid, delicate filigreed lacewings.

I wondered at the bravery I was witnessing. Pushing onward into an unknown world, leaving the security of its protective shell that had kept it hidden safe underground for several years. Tux lay sprawled on a nearby chair. Didn’t the innocent creature hanging on the post know this cat had crunched cicadas in his feline jaws for many a summer evening’s snack? Did it know that soon it would enter a dimension unimaginable in its freedom? That after years of solitary silence it would sing joyously in a loud chorus of hundreds? It had been given wings. It could fly!

Entranced, I marveled at God’s intricate design of all His creation. The night had come bearing gifts.