Beauty from Ashes - A Continual Process

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 ti...

Today I pray a glimmer of God's light will shine through my brokenness, the many cracks held together only by the Spirit of God. He is my glue. I'm learning that there's always a new filter through which we see life. Each painful experience, changes the way we filter past pain as well. We see everything differently.  With the unimaginable, there can come unimaginable strength as well. At some point we get to the place where this filter, though unwanted and always with us, allows us to see a new kind of beauty. A beauty from pain.  There is no time table for this... On my drive home last night I saw the sun setting on the horizon of a beautiful Kentucky farm.  I snapped the picture through my dirty car window.  All these thoughts came crashing in.  The window changed the purest beauty of the sun setting, but the sun was in the picture,  and its beauty was still there. A new strength slowly sprouts from beneath the cement, it's tender and nee...

 & worship is part of my journey again... Two blog posts ago, I shared about not being able to "see for forest for the trees."  Progress is a journey, so I bring hope in this post.  I may not see the forest, but I can see a wooded area.  The desert is a long hot, ugly hike, but the trees give shade and rest.  My brother knew a lot about hiking!  He was on a journey to hike the AT a chunk at a time.  He found his peace in the forest.  And now I can see that in this inexpressible loss, hope is no longer just a mirage, there is water... Two years ago when I fell in love with the song Oceans, by Hillsong United, I knew I had been in deep waters  (Psalm 42:7) before and God had carried me. I knew I would soon be letting go of one to Honduras, and two nearing college. I knew I had a lot to learn. I felt confident that God had given this song to me at that time to point me back to the truth that He is always with me. Be strong and ...

So I said in my last post that "I can't see the trees." It's true.  And you can't just snap your fingers and be teleported to the other side of grief.  I've only written a few times this year, but when I write, I don't hold back.  In my case, grief is about my brother taking his life at age of 47, and losing a dear friend to cancer a few months later.  Its true what's been said, you can't go around it, you must go through it.   But I have a Great Shepherd leading me through the desert.  This is not about pulling yourself of by your own boot straps, or faking joy, or mustering up the "right" feelings.  It's about truth transcending our feelings, and being OK with both, truth and feelings.  It's about being real. There is a movement in suicide awareness called Project Semicolon.  It is to signify to suicide survivors and those who are pressing on with mental illness to keep going.  Do not put a period on your story, ther...

Sometimes we really can't see the forest for the trees.  Still devastated one year later.  If you are devastated, there is not a time table, no judgement.  I hesitate to write much these days.  It is a time to be quiet.  But I am writing for those who think they should be further along in grieving their loss.  May you be encouraged. My brother took his life just over a year ago.  I am just barely beginning to process the loss of this precious man and all he meant to me and to so many.  It has taken me a year just to face the tragedy of the loss.  So many stages in grieving.  This is not a self-indulgent post, but one of benefiting from other people sharing. I want to urge you (us) to press on.  Keep seeking God.  That's where I am,  because I have hope and truth.  John 17:17 says,  "Sanctify them by the truth; your word is truth."  I believe this to be true, and so I will stick closely t...