Ashes to Ashes

January 26, 2008.  Early morning.  Phone ringing.  Awakening.  House burning. 

Alarming.  Blazing highway.  Parking car.  Approaching fireman.  Hearing, “I’m sorry.”

Disbelieving.  Kneeling.  Praying.

My dad.  Dying.

My father had returned to live in the home of his youth, amongst the memories of his siblings, his parents and his parents’ parents.  It was there, a few months prior to the fire, that I last visited him.  It was then, for the first time in my life, that I saw myself in him.  I saw beyond our physical resemblance to our personality similarities.  The thirst for adventure, the easygoing nature, the ability to make a stranger a friend, the speech pattern.  I saw my father – – – the man. 

But if I had known that this would be my final memory with him, what would I have said?  Would I have told him that his baby girl had missed him, that she had needed him? Would I have told him that I was okay, though…and that I loved him? 

If I had known, what would I have done differently?  Would I have given the house more than a passing glance?  This had, after all, been my second home.  The front porch where we had made homemade ice cream…the living room where we had watched Braves and Cubs baseball…the dining room where we had eaten Thanksgiving dinner and Christmas breakfast.   

February 2, 2008.  Memorializing.  “…ashes to ashes…”  Burying…

…and then sifting.  Digging through the ashes.  Raking back the rubble to discover the buried treasures of my family history: a post-slavery photo of my great-grandfather, a thank-you note to my grandparents from my mother, my grandmother’s china and silver.  Salvaging all of these possessions that had, over generations, become the ornaments of our family tree. 

…and then razing.  Tearing down what remained and clearing the land so that, someday, we could build again.

2015.  Crying.

“To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes…”

I didn’t (couldn’t) see it at the time, but God had shown me, me, in the best of my dad.  God allowed me, in the fading embers of his life, to recognize and appreciate the character traits in my father that would, years later, help me draft my own story.    

But most importantly, in the ashes of my pain and regret, God had shown me forgiveness and peace. 

Maybe you, too, have suffered loss.

Maybe you’ve lost a husband, through the cemetery or the courthouse.  Ashes of anger. 

Maybe you’ve buried a child, from the womb to entombed.  Ashes of guilt.

Maybe you’ve lain to rest a business or ministerial opportunity.  Ashes of doubt. 

Maybe you’re asking, “God, where’s the beauty in this?”

Maybe you’ve been on the altar for a long time.  You’ve sacrificed so much.  Your confidence and your hope have fallen through the grate. 

Maybe it’s taken some time for you to be able to see through the smoke of grief that’s tried to engulf you. 

Maybe you’re still sifting through the ashes of bitterness, disappointment and betrayal.       

Maybe you’re clearing the land of your heart, removing from it charred dreams, soot-covered success and smoldered relationships. 

If so, God sees your tears.  And His promise is that there’s beauty in the bereavement and creation from the cremation. 

The brazen altar was the first piece of furniture in the court of the Tabernacle.  It was the place of sacrifice.  In the Old Testament, these ashes were precious because they were then used to sanctify the unclean.

Would we pray differently if we knew that someone’s salvation tomorrow was dependent upon our sacrifice today?  Would our perspective of the fire change if we knew that God was using the flames to take us, to take our sisters, from mourning (weeping) to morning (joy)?   

God, the all-consuming fire, is bidding us to present ourselves as living sacrifices before Him, that He may use the ashes of our grief and suffering to minister lovingkindness to the brokenhearted and liberty to the captive.  Only God can, from the ashes of death, resurrect new life, new purpose, and new hope.  That He may be glorified…

PRINCIPLE:   “Look!” he answered, “I see four men loose, walking in the midst of the fire; and they are not hurt, and the form of the fourth is like the Son of God.”  Daniel 3:25