beauty will rise
"It was the day the world went wrong
I screamed 'til my voice was gone
And watched through the tears as everything came crashing down
Slowly panic turns to pain
As we awake to what remains
And sift through the ashes that are left behind
But buried deep beneath
All our broken dreams we have this hope
Out of these ashes
Beauty will rise
And we will dance among the ruins
We will see it with our own eyes...
For we know joy is coming in the morning"
Stephen Curtis Chapman, Beauty will Rise
The past few weeks have been emotionally rough for me. Waves of grief have seemed to re-surface, sometimes in indirect ways, other times in tangible bouts of crying. Thinking on the Saviour's birth directed my heart to both the fullness of expectation and the reality of loss.
For Christmas, I bought Steve Beauty will Rise, Stephen Curtis Chapman's newest CD, which narrates his story of walking through his own personal grief after a tragic accident this past year that took the life of his small daughter. Steve has liked SCC's music in the past, and I hoped that the CD would encourage him in his own journey through grief.
It took me over a week to be able to listen to the CD without having to ask Steve to turn it off. The words-- Chapman's description of his own agony in loss, questioning, and then finding peace as he chooses to trust God's goodness just brought up feelings of my own that were too deeply painful to remember.
As God led the Israelites into the land He had promised them, He asked them over and over again to remember-- how He saved them, provided for them over and over again and was giving them a hope that would far outweigh any good thing they enjoyed before. I have not been taking the time to remember, and all of these emotions that re-surfaced just felt overwhelming. Even more so with the due date drawing closer. Oh, sweet one. I could be holding you in my arms right now.You would be the delight of our hearts. We miss you so much.
It feels very empty right now.
I pulled out the journal I had written in just after Evelyn's death. I needed to return to a time when God's presence and love were so palpable, so real. When my needs were so great that I clung to Him. From the moment I learned about Evelyn's birth defects, seeing His hand. Believing in His goodness. Soaking in His words of love. Asking Him over and over to ground me in His truth. Laying down my fears, my anger. Choosing to be thankful. Asking Him to reveal the hope that would be my anchor.
Lord, I remember You. As I look to this new year, help me to remember all that You are, all that You have done. You are not changeable or distant or irrelevent. You are everything. You alone brought me up out of the pit. You alone guide me through the darkness. Settle me, again, Lord, in your truth. Let me know Your love and comfort as the emptiness gnaws at me. Fill me with yourself.
As I remember the past year, I am grateful for...
five months with Evelyn,
family reunion in Oregon,
playgroup friends,
new friendships,
baseball season,
swimming lessons in the fall,
visits from far away friends and family,
making our house a home again,
lydia reaching out to God,
another year of homeschool,
the beauty of Evelyn's funeral,
a gracious pastor,
learning to paint again,
long talks with Steve, learning to comfort one another,
new life,
a new year...
soli deo gloria
I screamed 'til my voice was gone
And watched through the tears as everything came crashing down
Slowly panic turns to pain
As we awake to what remains
And sift through the ashes that are left behind
But buried deep beneath
All our broken dreams we have this hope
Out of these ashes
Beauty will rise
And we will dance among the ruins
We will see it with our own eyes...
For we know joy is coming in the morning"
Stephen Curtis Chapman, Beauty will Rise
The past few weeks have been emotionally rough for me. Waves of grief have seemed to re-surface, sometimes in indirect ways, other times in tangible bouts of crying. Thinking on the Saviour's birth directed my heart to both the fullness of expectation and the reality of loss.
For Christmas, I bought Steve Beauty will Rise, Stephen Curtis Chapman's newest CD, which narrates his story of walking through his own personal grief after a tragic accident this past year that took the life of his small daughter. Steve has liked SCC's music in the past, and I hoped that the CD would encourage him in his own journey through grief.
It took me over a week to be able to listen to the CD without having to ask Steve to turn it off. The words-- Chapman's description of his own agony in loss, questioning, and then finding peace as he chooses to trust God's goodness just brought up feelings of my own that were too deeply painful to remember.
As God led the Israelites into the land He had promised them, He asked them over and over again to remember-- how He saved them, provided for them over and over again and was giving them a hope that would far outweigh any good thing they enjoyed before. I have not been taking the time to remember, and all of these emotions that re-surfaced just felt overwhelming. Even more so with the due date drawing closer. Oh, sweet one. I could be holding you in my arms right now.You would be the delight of our hearts. We miss you so much.
It feels very empty right now.
I pulled out the journal I had written in just after Evelyn's death. I needed to return to a time when God's presence and love were so palpable, so real. When my needs were so great that I clung to Him. From the moment I learned about Evelyn's birth defects, seeing His hand. Believing in His goodness. Soaking in His words of love. Asking Him over and over to ground me in His truth. Laying down my fears, my anger. Choosing to be thankful. Asking Him to reveal the hope that would be my anchor.
Lord, I remember You. As I look to this new year, help me to remember all that You are, all that You have done. You are not changeable or distant or irrelevent. You are everything. You alone brought me up out of the pit. You alone guide me through the darkness. Settle me, again, Lord, in your truth. Let me know Your love and comfort as the emptiness gnaws at me. Fill me with yourself.
As I remember the past year, I am grateful for...
five months with Evelyn,
family reunion in Oregon,
playgroup friends,
new friendships,
baseball season,
swimming lessons in the fall,
visits from far away friends and family,
making our house a home again,
lydia reaching out to God,
another year of homeschool,
the beauty of Evelyn's funeral,
a gracious pastor,
learning to paint again,
long talks with Steve, learning to comfort one another,
new life,
a new year...
soli deo gloria
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