Transformers

Megatron, Optimus Prime, and Bumblebee weren’t the first Transformers.

Before a yellow Volkswagon Beetle morphed into a mighty robot warrior,
transformation was quietly happening all around us.
I have proof.
It happened on my kitchen counter.

Monarch caterpillars hatch and feed on milkweed plants. I don’t know all the science around it, but while milkweed is considered toxic to most insects, these guys gorge themselves on the sticky, gooey stuff this plant oozes.

PB brought home six of the striped crawlers.
We outfitted each one in its own cozy glass house
and fed them milkweed daily.

Free from predators and lawn mowers and thunderstorms, these guys thrived. Life was good. Fresh food magically showed up, piles of worm poop were disposed of, and giants on the other side of the glass seemed to be enthralled.

Then one day, this happened.

Then this happened.

I know.
This is a Kindergarten science project.
You’ve seen it all before.

I’d like to invite you to pause and think about it.
Ponder the beauty.
Meditate on the wonder of metamorphosis.

When Paul wrote to the church in Rome, he said,
“Do not be conformed to the pattern of this world, but be transformed.”
Romans 12:2

The Greek word Paul chose was “metamorphoo.”

Jesus-followers are supposed to be Transformers.

Our life apart from Christ was like being a wormy thing—
stuck crawling on the ground,
eating toxic goo.

The Spirit of the Lord takes such lowly beings as us
and completely changes our form,
making us new creatures who can rise to new heights.

“If anyone is in Christ,
he is a new creation.
The old has gone,
the new has come.”
2 Corinthians 5:17

Bookkeeping

This is the only word in the English language (besides “bookkeeper”) that has three double letters— b-O-O-K-K-E-E-p-i-n-g. I guess you could call it a triple-double.

I learned this fun fact years ago in Economics 101. We had a visiting professor from Boston who wrote the word in large letters on the chalkboard one morning. It’s the only thing I remember from that class. I dropped Econ soon after, figuring that at least I learned something. More than forty years later, I still can’t explain supply and demand, but I know the only word with three double letters.

I admit I am a bookkeeper at heart. I have a detailed budget book, I keep every receipt in envelopes by the month, and I balance our checkbook to the penny.

Attention to details is one of my strengths.

It’s helpful when PB needs to be reminded what time his appointment is, or when I keep track of whose turn it is to deal, or when I rattle off all eleven grandkids’ birth dates.

But there’s a flip side.

It’s not helpful when I remind PB of the “right” way to load the dishwasher, or when I keep track of who won the card game last week, or when I rattle off others’ mistakes.

God is big into details.
Just look at that swirly pattern on your fingertip.
Take a close look at the inside a lily-of-the-valley.
Try to call all the stars in the Milky Way galaxy by name.

But God doesn’t seem to be big on bookkeeping.
In fact, God took the sinless Christ and poured my sins into Him.
Then, in exchange, God’s goodness was poured into me. (2 Cor. 5:21)

That kind of transaction really messes up the books.

He remembers our sins no more (Heb. 8:12).
He blots them out for His own sake (Is. 43:25).
He removes them as far as the east is from the west (Ps. 103:12).

What kind of a bookkeeper does that?

God reconciled the world to himself through Christ,
by not counting people’s sins against them.
2 Corinthians 5:19

Glory hallelujah!