Beauty in Ashes: Positive Takeaways from Grief

 Devotional: Beauty in the Ashes of Grief

He gives beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning,

the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness

Isaiah 61:3

      When Tif died, I thought the world had ended.  Not just my world, the world in general.  In many ways Tif was my world.  Caring for her consumed me during those ten months.  Now the loud noise of hospital rooms turned into silence and the silence was heavy, the memories were sharp, and the emptiness felt unbearable. Grief can strip away your strength, your sense of security, even your desire to keep walking forward.  Yes, grief gets you stuck.  It's like the whole world keeps moving except for you. But as I’ve walked with the Lord through these dark valleys, I’ve discovered something unexpected—grief, though painful, can also bring forth good.  The prophet Isaiah said that God can bring forth beauty from ashes and that we can find treasures in darkness.  But what beauty or treasure can come from such unbearable human suffering?

      Paul reminds us in Romans 8:28: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” I used to wonder how any good could come from loss. But over time, the Spirit began opening my eyes.  In the heat of the moment it's hard to see God clearly.  The grief is almost like heavy cloud cover, preventing us from clearly seeing the Lord and what He is doing.  It reminds me of when a storm comes in and darkens the sky.  It might seem scary and foreboding, but in all reality the sun is still shining.  The loss of someone important to you, in my case a spouse, rips off rose colored glasses and forces us to see that God is still there for us at all times, and even in this He can bring about something good.  Let me share with you a truth though, it's not good to remind someone who is grieving about this.  It almost feels like an insult, or a knife wielded against them.  The believer knows that God will bring something good from this tragedy, but your platitudes or good intentions isn't always what the griever wants to hear.  

      So, what beauty can I derive from my suffering.  First, grief deepened my dependence on God. Before, I leaned on the comfort of companionship; now, I’ve learned to lean on Christ in ways I never imagined. In the quiet, I discovered His presence was closer than breath.  Grief forced me to dig a deeper faith and trust in God.  Many people, believers included, find their lives totally shipwrecked when they lose their loved one, and rightfully so.  Their life was literally torn away from them.  BUT even in this God wants us to deepen our trust and dependence on Him.  I learned that God is dependable, trustworthy, and more faithful than I could have ever imagined. Proverbs 3:5 became a verse I lived instead of merely memorized.

      Secondly, grief softened my compassion for others. Before, I didn’t fully understand the ache of an empty chair or the weight of shattered dreams.  Yes, as a pastor I sat with people who lost loved ones.  My heart hurt for them.  I had sympathy for them, but not necessarily empathy.  I never understood their intense emotions, and to be fair, at times I quietly cricitized them because I didn't know the 'night of the soul' that they were battling.  Now, when I meet someone who has lost a spouse, my heart bends toward them. I can sit with them in their pain without trying to fix it—because I know the sacredness of tears.  I learned how to be a better friend and listener.  I've learned more about how to love others in the past two years then my previous thirty eight years combined.  God has laid a burden on my heart especially to walk with young widowers, to let them know that they are not alone.

      Grief reshaped my priorities.  Prior to Tif's passing I would labor and work countless hours.  Don't get me wrong, I love ministry, and I love work, but I learned that life is more then just being busy and having a full calendar.  Life doesn't look the same anymore.  The man that I am now has inverted his priorities .  Life feels shorter now, more fragile. I’ve learned not to waste words, not to hold grudges, and to cherish the moments I have left. Eternity feels nearer, and heaven more real.  I have learned to obey the Lord, make the most of each moment, and to love deeper then I have ever loved before.

      And perhaps most of all, grief has carved out a deeper hope in me. If this life were all there was, the pain would be too heavy. But because of Jesus, I know this is not the end. My wife is with Him, and one day, I will be too. That assurance anchors me when waves rise high.  My hope for heaven did has not diminished during this turbulent season with a goodbye.  Instead it has helped me to take my eyes off the temporal, fleeting things of this world, and instead of focus on the eternal, what really matters.

      Yes, grief hurts. It will always carry scars. But I’ve come to see that it can also be a teacher—one that points me to Jesus, shapes me in His likeness, and prepares me for the day when He will wipe away every tear.  Grief is a great teacher, but a terrible master.  Grief is now a permanent part of my life.  It is necessary becasue I loved my wife so dearly.  But grief isn't all negatives and loss.  There have been so many treasures that God has revealed to me since Tiffanie when home to be with Jesus.  He has provided me with such support, love, and new friendships.  I am thankful that He has shown me treasures in darkness, beauty in ashes, and even flowers in the valley of the shadow of death.