#No Filter

I write my heart.  I write of pain and beauty.  My Blog title, Beauty from Ashes, is not about my beauty at all!  It is taken from Isaiah 61 where the Isaiah was telling of a God-man to come.  Jesus.  

Jesus was going to come,  now Jesus has come, and the full healing of Jesus is to come.  But God wanted Isaiah to give us hope...

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,

...

to proclaim good news to the poor.

...

to comfort all who mourn,

3 and provide for those who grieve in Zion—

to bestow on them a crown of beauty

instead of ashes,

the oil of joy

instead of mourning,

and a garment of praise

instead of a spirit of despair.

They will be called oaks of righteousness,

a planting of the Lord

for the display of his splendor.

Today at church we read Psalm 130.  David writes of pain, mercy, and waiting, and hope.

A year and 5 months after my brother's death, I have grown and healed, and at the same time I'm torn apart.  Split second interruptions of my thoughts can send my soul back 1 year and 5 months.  

But I have tasted of healing and hope, and so my soul grows in faith.   God is once again, showing me that He wants to create beauty from pain.   He won't waste a moment if we open up to His love.  I don't know what that will look like yet.  My hope is that in some small way, my writing of this journey will be a slice of the hope of Heaven to a soul in need.  

I used to love to throw out bits of hope as I come across them in my own heart.  It's been a long dry spell.  But I am waking in hunger for His presence each morning.  I'm beginning to find and share #hiddentreasures again.  This was my early morning taste of hope from God:

The honest truth about my personal journey of grief is that I sometimes hurt more in church than when alone in the Word.  My mystical view of "church" as a child was that it should always be a happy place.  But church is a "real" place.  A place to bring the brokeness and the pain.  A place to give your heart to those moments you don't understand.  A place to slice off a piece of your own broken heart and share it with someone else who also needs understanding.  Jesus came and took all our brokeness on Himself, so we could look and point to eternity with Him.  Now that is hope!

Get some Jesus from someone further on their journey than you.  

Be you in the moment.  

And give some Jesus to someone coming along behind.

One of the hidden treasures, might not seem like a treasure at first.  I'm not quite there yet myself...but you begin to know how someone else feels in this pain.  You are part of the "inside circle" you never wanted to be a part of.  But you find family in that circle and you begin heal in that circle.  You are one that knows the second year is not easier, it's still raw and the hard part is that life goes on and you're still dealing with such great loss.  I will never see a second year suicide survivor of a loved one again and assume anything, I will know what they need and I hope I can bring a gift with that knowledge.  I also hope to join the army of those raising suicide awareness.  There is work to be done and survivors know what that work looks like.  Often they live in silent pain because they were not able to prevent it.  So many angles...so much love needing poured into those wounds.  Who better?...Someday.

I took a walk today, and saw this one lone sunflower in the middle of a construction site.  A picture of beauty from pain.  The dirt and weeds all scruffy and piled in messes all around, the beautiful landscaped part that was finished in the distant background.  

And this lovely yellow smile right in the middle.  Bringing a smile right in the middle of my heart.  This flower needs no filter, it's real, and brilliant and bright mixed in with the dirt and weeds.  Let your self  just be who you are, and lean into Jesus as He does the work.  One day a sunflower will pop right out of your heart and you will breathe again.  

This I know.  

Hillsong United, Wonder

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VMimAr8_b-8