Beauty for the ashes…

It wasn’t obvious; the damage, the destruction, the devastation.  It happened on the inside.

I had to invite you into my pain.  I had to tell you about it.  From the outside, it was a normal looking house, a normal looking life. From the curb, it was a house with a front door, windows and a roof.  All seemed perfectly fine, from the outside.

Things looked different on the inside. Once I invited you in, you could then see the carbon chains of ash strung throughout the house. The smoke was so thick, it was hard to breathe.  You couldn’t touch a thing without it leaving your hands black from the soot.  You could see the hole that was burned through the ceiling, through the roof…straight to the sky.  You could see the hole burned in the floor.  You could see the damage, the destruction and the devastation on the inside.

The fire burned and smoldered for God only knows how long.  A layer of ash and soot remained on everything.  Our family lost a lot of things. They had to be thrown away.  My Bible was the first thing I saved.  In one breath I blew the layer of ashes from the cover. It carried the smell of smoke for two weeks.

I had to invite you in for you to know of the damage and destruction done to the inside of our home.  I had to invite you in for you to see the damage done to the inside of our lives.

But before I could let anyone in, I first had to open the door to God.  I had to invite Him into the pain.  I had to stand in the space where the reality and the flashback met to become the present moment.  Flashing back, this moment had happened once before in my lifetime as a child. My parents lost everything they owned. I couldn’t understand the pain of the fire then. The pain became a part of who I was. Experiencing a fire as an adult, my mind tried to reason with the pain. It tried to make sense of it.

My trust was shook to the core.  Did I do something wrong?  Was God trying to tell me something?  I landed on the simple truth.  God used the second fire to help me understand the mess of the first.  He answered questions I didn’t know I had.  Questions that lived deep within my heart.  Questions that led me to false answers about God. Through the second fire, I found truth in sifting through the ashes of the first.

God used the second fire to heal me from the mess of it all.  But I had to open the door and invite Him into the pain.  I had to let Him into the damage, destruction and devastation.  It was an invitation into the spaces of pain that appeared “just fine” from the curb of life.  He accepted my invitation and completely rebuilt, restored and repaired the inside of my heart and soul.  He made everything new.  But the newness only came from the exchange of ashes for the beauty.

I remember walking through our house as it was gutted on the inside.  This.  This was a picture of my heart.  Stripped bare…down to the studs.  God left the framework. He left the structure.  But He completely gutted everything I knew about myself.  I started over at places like belief, faith, hope and trust.

Sometimes in life it is easier to keep the front door shut.  It is easier to not let anyone see the damage, destruction and devastation that exists on the inside.  The curb appeal of having it all together can be the very thing the enemy uses to isolate us. Do people drive by your life thinking that everything is perfectly fine? What does your life look like on the inside? Are there rooms in your heart where you can invite God into your pain?  Does a space exist where He can rebuild, repair, and restore the damage from the past or from the present? Is God standing at the door, waiting for the invitation to come inside?

Psalm 23 talks about walking through the darkest valley.  In my life the darkest valley began as I walked through the door.  My story includes two housefires…one as a child, one as an adult.  I don’t understand why the flashback and the moment met to become my reality. Its not for me to know why.  That’s not a question God has ever answered. But as I walked through the darkest valley of the housefire, God led me to some amazing places of healing.  The healing didn’t come easy. I had to open the door and let God into the places of pain.  The Bible says in Psalm 23 vs 6 that Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.  During the  6 month season where we were displaced from our home, my heart felt homeless.  I searched and longed for a safe place to call my own.  It felt as though we lost everything. My heart ached for a sense of routine, a sense to belong, a sense to feel safe.  I had to dwell in those spaces with God.  It was a place that couldn’t be found here on earth. It was found in my heart.  It was a place of surrender. I let God into the deepest part of the inside.  And it was there that I found room to dwell on the promises of God.  Promises that I couldn’t see.  Promises that I had to believe. Promises that said He would exchange the ashes for beauty. 

The healing began when I let God in. 

Before God could begin, I had to give Him the ashes. In exchange for the ashes, He did a new thing.  And that new thing is inside of me. Its a place in my heart that has a home in Christ. A home to dwell to keep safe from the chaos of this world.

Repaired… Rebuilt… Restored.

Psalm 23:1-6

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.  He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul.  He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake.  Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.  You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.  You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.  Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.