Beauty From Ashes

To console those who mourn in Zion,
To give them beauty for ashes,
The oil of joy for mourning,
The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness;
That they may be called trees of righteousness,
The planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified.

Isaiah 61:3

As a teacher, I love summer, but not for the reasons you might think.

Summer provides a break from the rigid schedules, the daily life trapped under the tyranny of a bell. It allows time to breathe, time to rest and recharge, time to sit and just read for enjoyment. It allows for time to spend catching up with friends you haven't seen for 10 months because the demands of teaching monopolize your days, your evenings, your weekends. Believe it or not, I do miss my students, but I know that the summer will allow me to mentally, physically and emotionally recalibrate, so that I come back able to invest in them again. It's what I believe God intended for me to do; the ministry He has called me to for this stage of my life. The summer is my sabbath, and God declared it good.

This summer we had the opportunity to get reconnected with a friend with whom we had lost touch for a variety of reasons. The catalyst for the reconnecting came through David's passing. This dear friend had been through some real struggles on multiple fronts, and we discovered that one of her sons, a friend of David's in childhood, had been struggling with similar battles with substance abuse. It may even have been that the brutal reality of David's death due to his playing with drugs was the event that brought that young man face-to-face with the potential consequences of his choices, and motivated him to get serious about getting help. However all that played out, when he heard that we were planning to come up to visit his mom, with sensitive heart he suggested to her that she perhaps not tell us how well he was doing, as it might be painful for us to hear that.

I have another friend, a colleague, whose son was also in the same age bracket and the same patterns of behaviour. I had shared with him that we had helped David enroll in Teen Challenge, an intensive faith-based program for both men and women designed to help them find freedom from addictions. David had to wait for a period of time before he could begin, and he succumbed to his overdose before that period ended. They were successful in enrolling their son, however, and he is doing really well. At one point in the spring, I stopped by to hear about his son and to let him know I was praying. He teared up. As a dad, he totally understood that my heart would have wanted the same for my son, but that's not how God allowed things to play out.

The reality is that both of these situations bring me joy. Granted, it is mixed with pain and a few tears, but only because I so desired the same for my David.

In this post, I talked about Acts 2, where James, in prison, is beheaded while Peter, also in prison, is miraculously released. Why Peter, and not James? Why these other men's sons, and not my David? Isn't the same God presiding over each of these situations? Is He not equally capable of supernaturally intervening? Was James a worse sinner than Peter? Was my David? Or is God just petty?

No. A thousand times, No.

I may not understand why God acts one way in one circumstance, and a different way in another, but that's because I'm not God. That is very much a "Captain Obvious" statement, but we humans tend to get all miffed when God doesn't do things the way we think He ought to, when it should be so clear that we do not have the full details in front of us. Sometimes we even start declaring He can't exist for those very reasons. I don't truly understand electricity, but I don't start doubting its existence as a result! Man, my beautiful wife is as real as can be, but I don't understand her all the time! (Can I hear an "Amen", husbands? 😏) Doubting God's existence, or goodness, just because we don't understand ... well, that doesn't make sense.

To our friend's son, I would say how glad I am that he is doing well, that he has seen value in himself because God values him. I would encourage him to use his experience, and the lessons he has learned, to help other people, young and old, find their value in the eyes of their Creator. To my colleague's son, I would say the same. I would not wish upon any parent the road I had to walk, though I have learned things about God's faithfulness and love that I likely would not have learned any other way.

And nothing would bring me more "oil of joy" and a "garment of praise", than to see the beauty of a life restored to a relationship with the God who loves them sprout from the ashes of my loss.