How many times have we heard that verse or quoted that verse? The words can flow lightly off our tongues, but when it really gets down to the nitty gritty of life, do we truly believe it? Do we truly believe that God is moving and working and orchestrating all of life's brokenness and heartache and disruption and failure and sorrow for ultimate good?
Well, all I can say is that the more I've aged (and aged and aged) and experienced or witnessed the inevitable accompanying difficulties or disappointments or even disasters that come with life, the more convinced I am that our God truly does make a way out of no way and miraculously, sovereignly, ultimately brings good out of all things.
Some things, however, we may not see this side of heaven. Some tragedies we may never understand until we leave this underbelly of heaven and get to the real deal. But I know, I trust, that one day we will see and understand fully and rejoice that even that tragic accident or that cancer or that whatever was used by an Almighty God to birth far greater good and glory. We may not see it here... but we trust we will there.
So, as my husband says, I just like the idea of a garden... but I don't actually want to work in the garden and remove weeds and all that mess. Hence this lovely photo.
But there's a little something different about these brown, tangled, dead looking stalks. In about a week or so, we're going to push the lawn mower over them... and then they'll look even worse. Just some sparse looking dead brown stalks barely poking up their sad heads above the dirt. Looks pretty hopeless, doesn't it? And it's about what you would figure from our gardening skills. Time to pack it in and give up on this little section of our destroyed garden, right?
Wrong. Because if you come back a few weeks later, you will begin to see life emerging. Against all odds, against all evidence to the contrary, you will see tender green stalks beginning to emerge from the wreckage. Beauty from ashes, as the Word says.
And within just a few short weeks, those tender shoots will grow into giant, splashy, vivid green stalks. I have no idea what they are! Day Lilly's, perhaps?! I told you I'm not an official gardener--I leave that up to God: if He grows it, we rejoice. If not, well, He had a better plan.
Back to our Day Lilly's--or whatever they are--they are marvelous! Right near the kitchen door so you can't help but smile when you go by them--so thick and profuse and bright. And our old black lab, Moses, really really really loves them. His favorite activity is to go sit in the sun for a while and warm up his old bones and then move to the middle of the mystery flowers and enjoy the coolness and fragrance of spring encasing him. Doesn't do much for the Day Lilly's, I must say. They get all smashed down in the middle, but that's okay. Just adds to their charm.
But the point is, right about now, it looks hopeless and hapless and horrible! Certainly nothing good could possibly emerge from this pile of mess... O but it does. Every single year. Beauty from ashes, with absolutely no assistance or encouragement from the brown-thumb Fountains (save the lawn mover--but that doesn't count because that always appears initially to make them look worse. Another example of how God uses pain in our lives, isn't it?).
I seen it over and over again in my life and the lives of those I love. Some sorrow, some disappointment, some failure, even some tragedy that seems to spell nothing but doom and devastation and dead-ends and that somehow, someway, incredibly begins to birth new life and new dreams and new--incredibly--hope. We've lived it with Janie's accident. We've seen it with good friends (and with us as well) when a child suffered some setback or some injury--and God used it to allow special, sweet time with that child or to bring about something remarkable and good in their lives and in their child's life. We've all seen it and experienced in ways too numerous to count... but it happens over and over and over again on this sometimes harsh and unpredictable planet.
And I guess what we need to do with the really big, hard, perplexing things that happen, where we simply can see no way out, no way in the world God could possibly bring good out of that tragedy or that death or that whatever, we choose to remember and trust. Remember those other places where God wrought life out of death. Remember when He brought forth tender shoots of life in the broken places. Remember when the cross preceded Easter.
And when we remember, we can then trust that if He did it there and there and there... well, then He will somehow, someway do it here too. We may not see it till we reach the shores of glory, but we will see it.
It's March... but April's coming. It's ashes... but beauty's coming. It's crucifixion... but resurrection's coming. Always. Always. Always.
To our great and glorious and good God be all the glory.
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