This evening, the kids came running in the house with a little green lizard that run up Shelby’s arm. Shelby freaked out and it jumped off her and into my lap. I held it for a brief second, let the girls pet it, and then took it back outside on the deck. This little green lizard, an anole, scampered across the deck, hugging the grain like it had somewhere to be. At first, I was just trying to get a good look at it. I wanted to grab my camera but was afraid that by the time I made it back outside, it would be gone. The girls got on the banister and told me they would watch it sit there while I went to get my camera. I’m glad that I got my camera. The lizard was still sitting in the same spot I left it. It was almost as if the lizard could understand me – I clicked my tongue and told him he was ok and it was as if he knew that he wouldn’t get fed to animals or that it would be protected if a bird tried swooping down to eat him. It was as if he was posing for the camera.

At first, I was just trying to get a good shot. That deep, almost emerald green skin shimmered in the sunlight, and it’s delicate toes gripped tight like it had no doubt where it was going.

Then, I noticed something different.

A faint, pale trail ran down its back. Looking closer, I realized it was shedding. That little guy was in the middle of a transformation, peeling away the old to make way for the new. The closer I looked, the more I saw the spiritual lesson God laid before me on that wooden banister.

We all have a skin we are shedding.

Mine? It’s that skin of trying to be everything for everyone. The fixer. The peacekeeper. The strong one. But the truth is, that version of me is stretched thin, brittle, and no longer first. Just like that old layer on the lizard, it’s served its season, but it’s time to let go.

Shedding hurts sometimes. It exposes raw places. Vulnerable ones. But God didn’t create us to stay stagnant. He designed us for renewal. In Ezekiel 36:26 – He says, “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.”

This is a promise.

That tiny lizard didn’t fight the process. It didn’t hang on to its old skin because it was comfortable. It simply trusted the process of newness. What if we did the same?

What if we let go of the bitterness, the weight of yesterday, the fear of not being good enough, the pressure of perfection, and allowed God to dress us in something new?

Just list that lizard, we are meant to grow, to change, to adapt. We were not meant to cling to the past – we were meant to live transformed.

So, today, I will keep this tiny green messenger in mind. I will breathe deeply, pray boldly, and trust that the skin I am shedding is just proof that I am becoming who God knew I would be.