Beauty for ashes

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. (Isaiah 61:3)

Our Heavenly Father approves everything that touches our lives before it occurs. That may be an uncomfortable statement, but it’s the truth. Sunshine and rain, laughter and tears, triumph and tragedy – these contrasts comprise the fiber of our existence in an interconnected pattern that only the Master’s hand could weave together. While we might never choose many of the events that mark us, we should take comfort in knowing that God is in control of everything and nothing catches Him by surprise. 

During my recent trip to the Colorado mountains, my mother, brother, and I hiked beautiful areas that provided gorgeous landscapes and endless photo ops. God’s beauty was on grand display in the sky, lakes, mountains, and trees surrounding us. The thousands of photos I captured attest to that fact. 

On our third day in Grand Lake, I attempted to retrieve a timed entry into the Rocky Mountain National Park, to no avail. Entrance into the federal area was restricted due to COVID and all tickets for the next three days of our stay were sold-out. While driving to our cabin, we noticed a small lot adjacent to the park unencumbered by this restriction. With few other options for the day, we decided to hike there instead. 

After parking our car and beginning our walk, it didn’t take long to determine why this area was wide open to the public. The blackened trees and barren landscape gave evidence that this area had been ransacked by fire at some point. While a few brave souls played frisbee golf on a conjoining walkway, few hikers, other than us, braved this sparse and bleak terrain. 

It was hot without the canopy of trees, and while new growth was emerging in areas around a small lake, most of the landscape was desolate and ugly. The three of us walked in silence, for the most part, as if our words, themselves, might disturb the somberness of the scenery. 

We chanced upon a small, female goldfinch, at one point, sitting in the middle of the path as if she was injured and unable to fly. While she, too, seemed dismayed by the surreality of her surroundings, she flew away when I attempted to help her from the trail. While unharmed, the shaded yellows of her plumage appeared to evidence the soot of the land. I immediately missed her living presence in the seemingly dead environs when she was gone. 

After hiking for a while, we took a brief rest on the embedded rocks and fallen timber in the blackened forest – each of us lost in our own thoughts. I snapped a photo of an ironic “No smoking” sign while thinking back to the public service announcements of my youth with Smokey the Bear reminding us all that “Only you can prevent forest fires.” 

In consideration of the sign, I wondered to myself what peril had sparked this disaster. Was it caused by human carelessness or force of nature? How long ago had it occurred? Would the area ever fully recover its former glory? 

“I hate this hike,” my mother said, about an hour into our journey. “We need to get out of here.” 

While returning, a slice of red caught my attention amongst the black and gray markings along the trail. Perched amid the ashes, a healthy plant with flaming red spires bloomed alone. Whether weed or flower, my impression remained the same. The contrasting artistry in the scarred environment struck me as a promise of God’s presence along life’s painful pathways.

After taking a photo, Isaiah 61:3 sprung to my head. The New Living Translation of this scripture says, “To all who mourn…He will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning.”  

How often do we speak as my mom did when facing troubles? “I hate this. I need to get out of here.”

No one wants to go through the fire. At times, we all face debilitating and destructive challenges with no logical purpose other than to cause us heartache. Each of us wants to live victorious lives, free from difficulties, but the best lessons are ofttimes learned when we are on our knees in prayer and submission to God’s hand of correction and trial. 

God uses our weakness to make us strong. Andrew Murray explains this well in the following statement: “There is no truth more generally admitted among earnest Christians than that in their utter weakness. There is also no truth more generally misunderstood and abused. The Christian thinks his weakness his greatest hindrance in the life and service of God: God tells us that it is the secret of strength and success. It is our weakness, heartily accepted and continually realized, that gives us our claim and access to the strength of God. All our strength is in Christ, laid up and waiting for use.” (1)

On October 14, 2020, just thirty-two days after we vacationed there, fire struck the town of Grand Lake and the surrounding region. In a matter of hours, a blazing force eviscerated this magnificent community, causing emergency evacuations, the loss of two lives, and unquantifiable property damage. As of this writing, the Troublesome Fire, as it was aptly named, burned through 150,000 acres in a single night, with total destruction of 193,774 acres of land over 302 square miles, destroying 300 homes and approximately 200 secondary structures.

The joy I felt during our time in the mountains has forever tied me to this region, and my heart breaks to consider any destruction to this resplendent environment. With great concern, I reached out to the homeowners of the places we stayed to let them know I was praying for them and ask about their property. I’ve since learned that one of the homes escaped the carnage, but the second cabin has yet to be confirmed intact. 

While we don’t understand such tragedies, they serve as reminders of life’s fleetingness and the importance of appreciating the world’s splendor around us. My family’s memories in this magnificent mountain retreat are all the more precious when I think of all that has been lost there recently.

The moment I learned about the destruction facing this area, I thanked God for my family’s safety during our trip. In my next breath, I prayed for God’s mercy over this area. We had seen smoke above the mountains from another active fire while we were there but never felt we were in danger. Although we often take our security for granted, we should never cease to pray nor underestimate God’s unseen hand of protection over our lives each day.

Blessedly, God sent a heavy snow to blanket the area and calm the flames. Homeowners are only now returning to assess the full damage of this destruction.

In light of these recent events, the words of Isaiah 61:3 are all the more inestimable. God is in control, and He will produce beauty from whatever ashes befall us. May we never forget the frailty of tomorrow as we capture, collect, and celebrate the grandeur of today’s blessings.

Reference: Murray, Andrew. “Abide in Christ.” Retrieved from https://www.worldinvisible.com/library/murray/abide_christ/abide28.htm