Beauty from Ashes

                                            by Caroline Anderson, residence heaven, ashes made beautiful

I was laying on the floor of our living room the other day when the strangest and most unpleasant smell hitched a ride on some air coming down from the flue in the chimney.  A quick check of the fireplace confirmed that cats do not necessarily prefer plastic bins with blue and white gravel to the delightfully private, dark, and softly cushioned floor of a fireplace which has not been cleaned of its ashes from winter past. I remember the logs we all took turns adding to the fire, dreaming next to its cheerful glow that we were in a cabin or it was snowing outside. I felt those logs in my hands, I even lugged some of them upstairs from the wood pile against the back fence. At that time the wood looked like part of a tree, although a dead one.  Go backwards a few more months and those chunks of wood were the trunk of a tree with life in its veins coursing from the roots, through the chunks I held and shooting up into the the beautiful green leaves and red blooms of spring flower at the very top.  I remember seeing a bird once or twice from Ben's office window sitting on the topmost branches, and there were ants and bees who used it for shelter as well. In fact, I think this was the tree we once tied one side of our volleyball net too during the July 4th picnic because the structure was so flimsey that it would start to fold when a ball hit the net dead on. Now what remained didn't look at all like a tree, or a branch, or a leaf...just fine, powdery grey cat litter which had be carefully removed with a small shovel and lots of white plastic trash bags to protect the hearth and rug just outside its tomb.

To me, ashes go beyond death.  A piece of firewood is dead but still a tree, while ashes go beyond that. Ashes leave absolutely no hope for reanimation, no hope for anything at all. This is probably why throughout history those feeling the depths of despair have instinctively thrown them over their heads in mourning, as if this residue of fire might be able to help express the hopelessness of a tormented heart in a way that words and cries from the vocal cords cannot fully express. We don't happen to use ashes that way where I live, but I'm afraid we still find ourselves with the same heart condition which inspired others to do this. Does anyone need to be reminded that there is suffering in the world no matter who you are or where you live? On a very personal level what we face may not measure up to the intensity of suffering we imagine others are feeling in very desperate situations or losses, but no one can know the measure of a man's suffering except the man himself. Like I said, we are none of us exempt.

These ashes in my fireplace came to mind again when I was having one of those bald headed, "I've given up trying to hide anything from You" kind of conversations with God, He who I try to see with my heart since I can't see with my eyes.  I sensed the presence of ashes. "Lord what can you do with ashes?"  I could never explain my ashes to you nor would I attempt to, but for the sake of sharing, all I am trying to say is that if I have them maybe you have some too.  What seems impossible?  What cul-de-sac has you trapped? What is so broken it seems as though it could never be redeemed? Do you feel that way about yourself or about dreams or expectations or desires that seem burned beyond recognition?

The heavens do declare the glory of God and his creation also inspires me to praise when I see a reflection of His nature in it, and it shows me that ashes are not the end. They slit the throat, blood fell, and sins are forgiven. The body is burned to ashes and the ashes are mixed with pure water to make a water of purification. That was in the temple at Jerusalem, but did you know that pioneers on this continent used those same ingredients to make soap?  Pure rain water washed repeatedly over ashes makes lye, which mixed with fat and cured hardens into soap  Priests were commanded by Moses to use ashes for ceremonial cleaning, housewives labored with it to create an agent for cleaning their families' bodies and clothes,  so what will I do with mine? Being made in God's image, I have the dignity of being given a choice. I make no claim here to be good at choosing, but I see the options. Lye not made into soap is toxic, it can burn your skin on contact and will kill you if you ingest it.  I think its the same with ashes...let them clean you or suffer their wrath.

The problem I have often faced is that being cleaned by ashes doesn't sound like something I want to do. I never wanted them to be there in the first place and now I just want to hate them and forget they are there at all. I fact, I'm angry that the fire was allowed to burn, and where was He anyhow at the walking through?  That my friend is the most dangerous place to be, when I have to face what to do with the ashes. At the moment I feel woefully unqualified to comment with any sense that I can provide leadership by example. My fires have been so small, comparatively. But I guess all I can do is share what I have, and that is at least a little experience with some ashes and the strong conviction from having got it wrong myself, that ashes can make you clean. I'm forgiven I know, but there is that gap of the flesh that taunts me.  Do you want to be more holy? Do you want to know God by doing what is well pleasing in His sight?  I would do away with  that gap not between heaven and hell but between close and far, intimate or simply acquainted, the distance my sinful nature keeps between God and me.

This last part here scares me because I feel that I have set myself up to tie it all together and it seems like too much, knowing myself. So lets stick with some things that are unchanging, like His words which were compiled on this theme by my friend Charles:


"When thou passeth through the waters, I will be with thee, and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee." Are you pressed with labors and afflictions? "As thy days so shall thy strength be," "All things work together for good to them that love God, to them that are the called according to his purpose." Are you persecuted? Here is a note of encouragement for you: "Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice, and be exceeding glad; for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you." Whatever your circumstances are, "Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say rejoice." 

I'm pretty good lately at a prayer of surrender if nothing else, so here is one if you want to follow along...

Lord, these ashes seem to me too strong and too big for me to handle. I have tried but it is so evident that I have failed in my own strength the do this without You. But I struggle to trust because I am afraid You will not help me. But then what hope is there anywhere at all if You are not faithful? Please forgive me for thinking that my thoughts are better than Yours, or my ways better than Your ways. I wish it had never been, or that the struggle wasn't so hard, and I'm afraid that I can't change, but then again, Your word says that with You all things are possible so it must be true. I don't want to, and I can't carry this burden on my own, so please take it, and protect me, and help me when I need You, and give me the measure of faith that is needed for it so that I am not overwhelmed again. I'm going to trust You even when I feel like You are not there, or that You've left me to my own troubles...because I do believe that You are good, and a rewarder of those who diligently seek You. May my seeking be with a more humble heart. Help me accept what You allow and please help me to fight for what I should with a believing heart and no longer one that is only afraid and full of doubts.*

I do believe my friends that He gives beauty for ashes. In nature there may not be any greater miracle shown than this, how after a forest fire the heat has released so many nutrients from the dying pants and trees that the ashes become fertilizer for the new, cleaner and safer forest that grows in the ruins of the old.  Can't we trust the Creator of this universe more than we do? If He created the expanse of the moon, planets and stars in every solar system, and the beauty and complexity of life on earth, then lovingly suffered the cruelty of the cross for His mankind creation, maybe He can and will make something beautiful out of our ashes too.

This has been a great time in my life to practice what I preach, although I feel so carried by prayer that it has not been the most difficult season at all. I did have my last infusion last Wednesday and as expected the weekend took the brunt of it. I'm finding now that activity makes me pay later, so today I am relaxing in the luxury of an empty, air conditioned house and feeling pretty good. I'll take three weeks off to recover and then we'll start radiation at the end of the month and I am going to try to go back to work too. Part of me would be happy to repeat my many irritating and frustrating physical symptoms, but I'd rather do a thanks list.

Thank You Lord for friends, and hugs, and meals, and prayers, and encouragements, and quilts, and phone calls, and flowers,  and jewelry,  and feet rubs (Laurel), leg and back rubs (Ben) and books. Mary Poppins was right, a spoon full of sugar makes the medicine go down much better so thanks for all the sugar you sweet people!  I know He is using you to help Him make things beautiful.

* "Beauty for Ashes" sermon #1016 C.H. Spurgeon, Metropolitan Tabernacle