The Beauty Seekers

“This is a call to all the dead and disappointed
The ones who feel like they are done
This is a word to all the ones who feel forgotten
But you are not”

-All Sons and Daughters, “Alive”

Over the last decade I have felt a nudging from the Holy Spirit to be a beauty seeker. To search for light in the cracks of devastation, brokenness, and sorrow. This has led me to asking God where he could be found at the times of devastation, and through waiting on a picture of him being present in my life, I have begun to thank him for keeping me from losing that which I hold most dear: Hope.

It is so easy to be discouraged in our day to day- the world is full of messages of people facing heart ache, loss, fear, bombs, wars, hate, depression, 101 “disorders”… I honestly had to stop watching the news several years ago, because of the heaviness my heart would feel each night. It was no way for me to unwind, and it most certainly didn’t help me to fix my eyes on Jesus.

I am coming to find a balance of seeing beauty in the day to day and the extraordinary. More than that though, I want to see the beauty in the devastation too. It isn’t easy.

I was thinking upon the women that went to Jesus’ tomb after he was crucified. Can you imagine the disappointment? The grief. Your saviour hung upon a cross and buried behind a stone so big you had no hope of finding him again. Of saying goodbye, of seeing him one more time. Yet, by some miracle, when they arrived, at what must have been one of the lowest moments of their lives, they were met by a stone rolled away, and an angel with a message. Jesus is risen! Death could not hold him down, and indeed they would see him again. He hadn’t left them.

At the end of Matthew 28:20 Jesus says to his disciples ” I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”

These words, this message, this promise, has been my saving grace. In times of fear, pain, grief- I cling to the cloak of Jesus. He is with me; always.

Always.

Always.

He is with you now and always has been.

Several years ago I asked God where he was when I lost my dad. Not because I hadn’t felt God there, but I wanted to see him. You see, the day my dad died everyone I knew was out of the city. My family had left to move to a different country that day- our only family friends in the area that were aware of my dad’s struggles were away at a wedding. Every number I called left me with a voice mail.

When I got home from work, I couldn’t find my dad. I went to our new condo that we were renting, and he wasn’t there. I was locked out without a key. I had gotten off work and was angry and frustrated that he had left without thinking of me. He didn’t leave a note, he didn’t call my phone. I drove around town looking for his car. I drove to the city and went to every place I could think of him being. My anger began to turn to worry. Where was he? What state of mind was he in. And then I went back to our home.

I cried and cried in the seat of my car. Wondering why I was so alone- I couldn’t reach anyone, there was no one to help me find him. I prayed that he would just come home. I walked around trying each door one more time, and then I noticed the front window was slightly cracked. It was nearly 10 at night. I pulled my car up onto the front yard, climbed on the hood of the car and wedged the window open, then climbed into the house.

When I got into the house I went immediately to the garage to open it to park my car. When I opened the door I saw the red car sitting in the garage that belonged to my dad. Strange. I knew something wasn’t right.

Why did I walk to the car. Why did I look in the back seat.

There I found him. I yelled his name “Peter!!” and waited.

I can still remember that moment. I was the only one in the whole entire world that knew the nightmare that was now our reality. My dad was gone from this world forever. There would be no goodbyes, no more stories, no more memories to be made. And in that moment it was as though the world as I knew it broke forever.

I didn’t know what to do. I called 911. I told them that I was sorry to be calling, but I didn’t know who else to call. I think my dad is dead in the backseat of his car. In our garage. I don’t know. I don’t know. I am so sorry if I shouldn’t have called you, but I didn’t know who else to call.

When the ambulance and the fire truck arrived, I remember standing beside the fire truck, asking myself what to do next. I didn’t want to tell my family what I knew- that dad was dead. I didn’t want to break their world, or their hearts. I wanted it to be undone. I remember that moment so well. The onlookers out on their decks, wondering what had happened. All the police cars and emergency vehicles.

Looking back, I remember 2 things very clearly from that moment. I faced my biggest fear that night- that my dad would take his life in depression; that he would lose hope. The second being that I had never more clearly, more strongly, felt the presence of God in my life. Jesus became so real for me; I could not deny his presence there with me.

Several years later I asked Jesus to show me where he was that night, and he gave me this picture:

I saw myself standing beside the fire truck, and there he was behind me with his arms wrapped tightly around me. Protecting me. Holding me up when all I wanted to do was to crumble. He was there in the sweet first responder who talked peace into my panic. He was there in the police officer who heard the call and knew the name and came and let me sit in his car, then drove me to the hospital to be checked out. He was there in my parents friends who met me at the hospital with hugs and tears, and sat with me for hours as I waited in emergency. The ones who drove me to their home and gave me a bed to sleep in. The same friends I now call mom and dad. He was there in the prayers, he was there in the crying, the hugs, the loneliness, the brokenness.

You see, there is beauty in the most unexpected places. Even in our biggest fears, and lowest moments. God creates beauty from ashes.

My name is Ashlea, and it always bothered me that it wasn’t something more beautiful- it simply means “from the Ash tree meadow.” It didn’t ever mean much to me.

Yet now, it means something of a promise.

God has taken my life- a meadow of sorrows, disappointments, brokenness… and turned it into beauty. He has spoken over me “Beauty from Ashes.” Within my heart is an imprint to always be a beauty seeker. To find Christ’s beauty in the most unexpected places.

As long as I can remember, my nickname has been Ash, ever since I was a little girl. I love my name now. It is a name I wear with gratitude.

I am learning to find the gift in what God has written upon my heart. To turn my eyes to Jesus, and keep them fixed on him.

There is a verse that a friend of mine sang over me when I was in YWAM- you might know it. It comes from Isaiah 61, verse 1. When I was 18 it became a “life verse” so to speak. When Matthew and I got married, unknown to me, our dear friend that married us would share that same verse with all who gathered, with the message of a Love Story that was “Beauty from Ashes.”

This morning, Easter Monday, I heard the words “The Beauty Seekers.” I don’t know all that it means, but those words are there in my soul full of promise and healing. Will you join me as beauty seeker? Will you stand up for seeking beauty and sharing it with others. To be a mighty oak, for the display of his splendor? To wear a crown of beauty instead of ashes, joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of despair?

I am here to say that I know this can be truly difficult. If you are walking through some hard, painful times, I encourage you to call to Jesus. He will show up in the places of devastation, he is always with you. There is nothing you can say to God that he can’t handle. There is no anger, no hurt, no memory too big for God. There is nothing that you must walk alone.

It is so, so important that we share our stories of Hope. God wants to rebuild what has been torn down. I know it doesn’t make sense to the world that people would find Joy in place of sorrow. Yet God is here, with freedom for the captives and balm for the broken hearted.

-Miss Ash

I would love for you to share your stories of beauty in the comments, via email, on facebook, instagram, or twitter. use the hashtag #thebeautyseekers it might be something large, it might be in an ordinary daily moment… a photo, a word, a whisper.