beauty for ashes

Yesterday, I rediscovered a talk I wrote around Christmas time. I remember being on a family car journey and sitting in the back window-gazing, daydreaming and listening to worship then having a sudden realisation: 'wow. we expect God to give us the beauty without us giving Him our ashes...'

I knew there was a verse about ashes being replaced with a beautiful crown that I loved, so had a dig around my Bible and, with the help of google (oh modern Christian life), realised I was thinking of Isaiah 61:3,

"to all who are mourning in Israel, He will give beauty for ashes, joy instead of mourning, praise instead of despair. For the Lord has planted them like strong and graceful oaks for His own glory..."

I started to mull and scribble, and Bible verses were flying around my head like they do when I'm 'in the zone' with talk-writing (a rare but lovely and special occurrence). I love to sit and dig deep in that situation; to challenge myself intellectually while learning from and about God .

I wanted to know how, in a practical sense, we can receive these promised blessings...

1) "beauty for ashes"

it sounds obvious - but in order to get the beauty, we have to give God the ashes - we have to surrender our lives; our mess. It's one of the hardest things to do; it has to be a daily (or even multiple times daily) decision. We have to live out Romans 12:1 by becoming living sacrifices - and while we are in this world, that requires us to sacrifice ourselves, all of the time. Of course we fail, but His grace is sufficient - we just have to surrender all that we can. We have to pray the prayer of Psalm 31:5: 'I entrust my spirit into your hand. Rescue me, Lord, for You  are a faithful God.'  We have to trust that God won't reject our brokenness.

2 Corinthians 4:8 'we are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are not crushed and broken...'. There is always hope; we are never too broken to be useful. We need to recognise that we are worth saving - for God's purposes. We have a future. Ezekiel 37 talks about the valley of dry bones that God brings to life. Those are the ashes that we need to commit to Him, over and over again.
By nature, ashes are done. Finished. I know that we can feel like that too. But that doesn't mean we're too broken; it doesn't mean that we're beyond help or not worth saving. It just means that it really is time to surrender the ashes.

When we feel broken; prayer is hard. But the Holy Spirit is already constantly advocating for us (Romans 8:26); we just have to join in, in any we can, with what is already going on on our behalf. It helps to start small; a morning prayer of 'Lord I want to glorify You today. Help me to give You all that I can. Help me to be honest with You and let You work in me and through me in this day you've blessed me with. Amen.' Then just at little intervals, check in with God. 'Lord I'm struggling. Thank you that You are all-sufficient. Please could you help me now. Amen'. God knows our hearts; we don't need to explain all the details of the situations all the time: we just need to acknowledge that He is Lord and He loves us.

2) Similarly (this talk definitely didn't end up brief - it became a full-on sermon! - so I'll summarise the other two points on this blog), to receive "joy instead of mourning", we need to acknowledge the hurt and recognise that there is a season for everything (Ecclesiastes 3:4). We can't run away from any season so we need to be real with God about where we are and allow Him to help us in that.

3) for "praise instead of despair" we need to look up. When we truly open our eyes to who God is, we can't help but praise! Despair is being desperate. 2 Samuel 24:14 "this is a desperate situation...but let us fall into the hands of the Lord, for His mercy is great". When we take our eyes off of the despair in the situation we might be in, and fix our gaze on Him; when we replace 'I can't do this' with a recognition of who God is and that He is -by definition- able to do anything, we will be changed.

Today, I hope to live out some of what I've written; not all of it - and not perfectly. But today, I will do all that I can to surrender my own ashes...

enough is enough

I remember the first time I ever hit rock bottom. 12thAugust 2011. I remember thinking I didn’t want to live anymore; that I was just done and exhausted with life. It was so scary, and that experience initiated small but certain changes – opening up to God; admitting I wasn’t okay.

I seem to have those situations far more frequently lately. The lovely wedding where I simply couldn’t cope with the people and pressure and buffet at the reception so left in tears in the early evening.  Last night when I sat crying on my kitchen floor because I was too dizzy not to eat but too terrified to even open the fridge then, after a while, couldn’t cope with being trapped inside and lay on the beach at midnight and prayed again that I couldn’t do this - I just couldn’t.

It scares me that these moments should all be a turning point. Each time, I try to make them so.
  But the next morning I wake up still trapped and go on as I had the day before. I desperately need a genuinely turning point but, equally, I’m learning that maybe it just doesn’t work that way.  I wonder what it would take to make me finally say 'enough is enough' with a certainty and strength stronger than what keeps me stuck. I need it to happen, but equally I just don't know how.

Instead, I am trying to improve my perspective in the small things: in trying to be more present in my daily life moments that contain so much beauty. Beautiful views of Torquay where I spent a week with my lovely Ellie and her family; celebrating the wedding of one of my closest home friends (yay Mary!) and the return of Mads to civilisation and phone signal! I've missed her hilarity (and everything else about her!) so much...

 I’m now fully settled into my new house, and delighting in the way that the sunshine streams through my bedroom window to land on the bed in the late afternoon – optimum situation for a 4pm nap.  

I have a GP appt. tomorrow that I cannot find words to express how much I'm dreading. But it's necessary. If not for me; then for the people who love me who I'm hurting by hurting myself. I need desperately to make changes and I think I've reached the end of my ability to do so. 

 

 Yet again, I'm trying to surrender this to the One who knows far more than I do. He is beautiful and whole and I love Him.