I have a severe case of “survivor’s guilt”. I guess, technically, it’s not survivor’s guilt but I’m having all the feels about our chosen family in GA and what they’ve been through this weekend. I’ve watched the videos and the photos of our beautiful island flooding…from afar. It’s surreal to watch the place you lived, literally three months ago, be ravaged by a major storm like Hurricane Irma. I realize it could have been so much worse. I realize there are so many others who legitimately got the short end of the stick with this storm. We are praying big prayers for all those affected. I am praying big prayers for my little family, for my sweet girls who have asked repeatedly if their Nana and Papa and P are safe, if all their friends are safe, if their teachers are safe… Both girls have asked throughout the day what will happen to the playground, the pier, the beach… My answer has been the same-He makes beauty from ashes.
Sissy looked at me a little funny the first time I gave her that response. “What’s that mean, Mommy?”. I talked to her about something she could relate too. She has discovered a passion for rocks since we moved here. Not just any old rock, she studies the texture, the weight, how they feel in her hands and then makes a seemingly calculated decision before choosing said rock. She brings them home and washes them…(she’s asking for a rock polisher for Christmas…if anyone knows where to find one appropriate for a seven year old, help a sister out…)… she always talks to me about how dirty they were before she cleaned them and how beautiful the colors are once they’ve had a “bath”. After we talked about her rocks, she understood. “Just because our island looks yucky and dirty right now, it doesn’t mean God will let it stay that way.” Exactly, little one.
This conversation lead into another conversation with Mouse and Sissy about how God doesn’t let us stay ugly and dirty. The reason He sent Jesus was to make us clean, like their rocks. I’m loving the little lessons I’m able to draw from experiences. It’s one of the blessings of having the privilege of homeschooling them. We get to have REAL conversations. There is time for them to ask ALL the questions, to give their thoughts and opinions. If you’d asked me a month and a half ago if I ever imagined God could make beauty from the ashes that was our first week of home school…honestly, I’d have laughed in your face. Seriously. He’s brought us a long way.
I went running tonight in preparation for an upcoming race. Mostly though, tonight’s run was about clearing the space in my mind that had become saturated with images from the storm, from conversations with precious family who have no clue what they are going back to or when. While I was running I started to feel some rhythm for the first time since moving here…my legs were loose, my breathing was right and my feet were landing just so…it occurred to me on the last half mile that even the trivial things like running…yep. He makes those beautiful too.
Over the past six weeks, I’ve watched this desert go from looking like a giant dust bowl, in my opinion…to a place of rest, of beauty and wonder. I wrote a Facebook post several months ago about running and how I was beginning to realize that despite my best efforts, running was starting to like me. Funny thing is, I started running because I wanted to honor my best friend. We ran our first half marathon together in February of this year and when I think about watching her cross that finish line, I am reminded just how beautiful He can make our lives even when we feel like all we can offer are ashes. He’s doing the same thing here, y’all. Each time I see the faces of my precious Navajo brothers and sisters and those beautiful babies, I know that He is making beauty from ashes. He’s mending this girl’s heart, drawing me back to Him and showing me just how beautiful He can make any circumstance. We I just have to let Him.
Beautiful Harvest Project 