A Christmas in Ashes

"Of one thing I am perfectly sure, God's story never ends in ashes."

-Elisabeth Elliot

As I write this post, I sit in my grandparent's living room with my family. This summer, my gramuver was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer. This week, we brought her home from the hospital in order to begin comfort care for her.

It is painful to watch loved ones battle unseen enemies, to face a sea of unknowns, and to wrestle with God and strive to comprehend his goodness. But I am reminded of Elisabeth Elliot's quote, "Of one thing I am perfectly sure, God's story never ends in ashes."

Sometimes, the holiday season isn't always what you expect it to be. The things we hoped for, fought for, thought we had already attained, sometimes turn to ashes. Perhaps a relationship ended, a loved one passed away, a job was lost, or other unexpected tragedies occurred. These events can bring us to our knees, no matter the perceived size of pain, by you or those around you.

The weight of these tragedies are especially poignant during times that are meant to be joyful, and you watch as other live glorious lives via Snapchat, Instagram, or Twitter.

Two years ago, I experienced my own set of lessons in the form of ashes during the holiday season. A relationship ended I believed would lead to marriage, a family member attempted suicide, and my sweet niece went to meet Jesus two weeks after birth. With no where to live, the possibility of dropping out of college a second time, and this combination of storms, I didn't really feel much like the Christmas spirit.

Feelings are valid. I just want you, sweet friend, to know that it's okay to hurt, to wrestle with God, and question the world around you.

But I also don't want you to remain in that pain, to allow bitterness to consume you.

God has granted us the ability to come straight to him in times of sorrow, joy, and even the mundane routines of daily life. He has a genuine open door policy with his children, any time any place any topic. He is our first and best resource at all times, and we so often forget that.

But sometimes, you want something a little more tangible, and God has given us the sweet gift of community for those very moments.

Maybe you don't have the perfect Christmas card family or relationship, maybe you feel a little lonely. I promise you, we have all felt that way, too.

Find community this season, people (or one person) that you can be candid with, sharing the joys and heartache you experience. Be authentic. Love others with abandon. Cling to the Savior.

These are lessons hard won for me. I didn't get it right away, and it took time for me to learn how to be content. There were many late nights, full of tears and prayer. But I now know what Elisabeth meant by her quote.

It doesn't always happen right away, and it definitely doesn't always happen this side of heaven, but sometimes, we get glimpses of reconciliation and blessings beyond all measure.

God greatly blessed this season of life for me as I traveled to Africa this summer, graduated from the University of Georgia, my father remarried (a stunningly classy woman with sweet children I love with my whole heart), and I received a job offer in Greenville. I also rest in the knowledge that soon  Gramuver will be without pain and will pass from Grandaddy's arms into the arms of her everlasting savior.

I still have unknowns, and life is far from perfect. But this broken world we live in is not the end. Job promotions, marriage, and white picket fences are not the final destination for us. Heaven is. So let us set our sights on things above.

God is good, even when lemons are straight up chucked at you by this life. Life might be messy, but peace can still be found. "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give you. I do not give as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not be afraid," John 14:27.