From the Ashes

 Over the last several years, parts of California have been devastated by wildfires. Flames ravaged communities and forests, destroying thousands of acres of woodland and wrecking havoc in towns and cities. Several towns have been burnt to nothing but a heap of ashes. Driving past previous fire areas, one can see the burn scars on trees where whole forests were destroyed. As time has passed, one can see something else, too: new life sprouting up from the ashes.

Throughout my life, I have often felt like a wildfire has swept through, destroying everything in its path. Hopes and dreams have been burnt to the ground through abuse, betrayal, rejection, and abandonment. Relational bridges have been destroyed, leaving only ashes. So many places in my life seem to have been devastated, specifically by trauma. I can see the burn scars where the proverbial fire has swept through. But, as time has passed, I can also see new life coming from the ashes. 

It’s fascinating that forest fires can be helpful in encouraging the growth of new trees and plants. Forest fires can help clear dead trees, leaves, and competing vegetation from the forest floor so new plants can grow (mylandplan.org). In California, for example, “prescribed fires” are used by forest managers to add nutrients to the soil and rejuvenate plant life. However, for large, unprecedented, destructive fires, active efforts to assist recovery are often needed (frontlinewildfire.com). 

In my life, there have been ‘fires’ used by God, my Forest Manger, to encourage new growth in me. And at times, there have been destructive fires used by my enemy to try and destroy me. I am so thankful for those who have assisted me in the recovery from the destructive ones. And I’m extremely grateful for the “prescribed fires” God has used to grow me, to clear away the muck and dead things and even the things that compete for my attention, in order to sprout something new. From the ashes, new life is born. May it be true in my life and in yours. 

Good Soil

 I got a new plant last weekend. A few days after I got it, I stuck it in the pot with my honeysuckle, as I intended this new one to be a ground cover for the base of the pot. A few days after I planted it, I noticed it was looking a bit pathetic. It was droopy and failing to thrive. I decided to uproot it and place it in a different pot. I was pretty sure I knew what the problem was.

Prior to getting this new plant, I'd placed some sphagnum moss on top of the soil in the honeysuckle pot. When I planted this new plant in that pot, I planted it in the sphagnum moss, rather than the soil. The soil was too far down and the plant wasn't getting nutrients. The sphagnum moss looked like soil and felt like soil, but it had no nutrients for the plant. A few days after planting it in the pot with no sphagnum moss on the top, it perked up and began to thrive. Why? Because it was finally in real soil. It had good soil, soil with nutrients to help it grow and thrive. 

I was thinking about this just now as I sat outside, looking at my now thriving plant, and felt like it pertained to church. What kind of church are you in? Are you in a church that looks and feels like church? Are you growing and thriving? Or are you slowly dying because the church lacks the nutrients you need to grow? What is the teaching like? Is it encouraging your roots to grow deep, or stay surface level? We need good soil to grow and thrive, or, like my plant, we will whither away and die.   

A Good Gardener

Just got done planting a bunch of bulbs that were sprouting. I love how so many things can be connected to spiritual principles.

There comes a time when God lovingly has to uproot us to plant us elsewhere. It's for our good, even though we don't like it. We may have grown comfortable where we are, but He knows that the soil is not good for our roots. He knows we need to be replanted elsewhere so that we can grow and bloom into what He intended for us to be. Like my bulbs today, He pulls us from the nutrient-less soil, pulls away all of the dead stuff encasing us, and intentionally places us into new soil. He then waters us, thus beginning the patient process of watching and waiting.

I'm so thankful He knows what's best for me. And His timing can be trusted. If I'd planted those bulbs too soon, they wouldn't grow into what they were designed for. Planted too late and the outcome would be the same. He not only knows where we need to be planted, but also the right time.

He's such a good Gardener.

 A few weeks ago, I brought home a Russian Tortoise. Since then, I have fallen more in love with this shelled creature than I thought was possible. I needed him in more ways than one, only I didn't know it until I had him. 

The other day, I decided to take him on a walk. Imagine a tortoise on a leash and that was the scene as we slowly walked across the driveway together. When we got back home, I had him out on the deck with me, watching him closely as he explored his new surroundings. Sometime later, I needed both my attention and my hands free, so I took him back inside and placed him in his enclosure: a 50 gallon plastic tote that he can't see out of. 

As I went about what I needed to do, I stopped to check in on him every now and then. Each time I did, he was as high as he could get in the enclosure. One time he was on top of his log, while the next he was standing in the plant with his body pressed flat against the wall. He seemed restless. He had tasted freedom and was trying to escape.

But he couldn't. The walls were too high and there was nothing for him to grab onto for climbing out. He was helpless. Only I could free him.

How many times have we tasted freedom, only to be enslaved again? How many times has our Master set us free, only to find ourselves being put back in our prison? Just a few weeks ago, I was basking in the fact that I had been set free from something. Then, before I knew it, tempting thoughts and feelings were assaulting me and I was in a fight. There was one particular moment when thoughts of going back were swirling in my head. I found myself shouting, "No! I have been set free from that!" Scripture says, "He whom the son has set free is free indeed." I was free indeed, and not about to allow myself to be put back into slavery. 

Yet, sometimes it happens. Sometimes I find myself back in my prison, unable to free myself. It’s then that I need Jesus to lead me again to freedom. And thankfully, He is faithful to lead me every time. 

More Than the Sand

There are a few people in my life whom I care about deeply and think about often. I'm sure you have them in your life, too. And I also have a few people in my life who know me pretty well. They know my likes and dislikes, my quirks and even my faults. You probably have a few of those people in your life, too. Those are the people who can read me like an open book. 

However, as much as they care about me and I about them, our knowledge of one another is limited. We can never know all there is to know about one another. There is only One Who knows all there is to know about us and Who cares about us more than anyone who loves us ever could. 

I was reading Psalm 40 today and was struck by verse 5. It reads, "Many, O LORD my God, are Your wonderful works which You have done; and Your thoughts toward us cannot be recounted to You in order; if I would declare and speak of them, they are more than can be numbered" (NKJV). David wrote similar words in Psalm 139:17-18: "How precious also are Your thoughts to me, O God! How great is the sum of them! If I should count them, they would be more in number than the sand..." (NKJV). 

If I should count them, they would be more in number than the sand. 

 I don't know about you, but it leaves me dumbstruck to read that someone, anyone, would think of me that much. And yet, He does. If you look at a small sampling of sand, even that is an innumerable amount. And yet, His thoughts about us outnumber all of the grains of sand.

Scripture also says that He knows the number of hairs we have on our head (Luke 12:7, Matt. 10:30). My best friend doesn't even know that about me. I don't know that about me! Yet He does! He loves us and cares about us so much that even the number of hairs on our head matter to Him and are known by Him. When one falls out, He's aware of that. I'm not even aware of that! 

We are loved and known and cared about more deeply than we realize. I cannot begin to comprehend His love and tender care for me. There's a song by Steffany Gretzinger called, "No One Ever Cared for Me Like Jesus." This, my friend, is the truth. There is no one we have ever known who has ever cared for us like Jesus. No one ever has and no one ever will. It is more than we can comprehend, but it is the truth. It's incredible to think that the one person in your life who loves you and cares for you more than any other does not love you nor care for you like Jesus. He is the One Who promises to never leave you nor forsake you. He promises to take care of you. He is the only one worthy of your affection. He is the God who loves. He is the God who cares. He is the God who sees and knows and is there. 

And He thinks about you more than all the grains of sand. 

Magic Eraser

When I taught preschool for my local Head Start program, we had to clean up at the end of every year. By that time, things had gotten, well, if you have children, you'd understand. The walls had darkened smudges on them from little grubby hands and the tables had a few crayon or marker scribbles here and there. When the cleaner and a rag didn't work, a Magic Eraser did the trick of getting those marks up and of getting those grubby hand smudges off the walls.

You've heard of a Magic Eraser, right? It's a little white 3D rectangle made of some magic material that somehow erases smudges and marks that other cleaner refuses to make budge. I've noticed that as I use the eraser, it becomes dirty. It takes on the dirt, so to speak, of whatever it's being used on. After a few uses, the white eraser is no longer white, but pretty dirty looking. However, it has done its job.

I was listening to Natalie Grant's song, "Clean," tonight on repeat. If you've never heard it, I'd encourage you to give it a listen.



I've been walking through a journey of healing from trauma and recently had a major deliverance of some pretty gnarly stuff. As I've been processing the last few weeks, I've noticed that I feel shame for the things that happened and the things that I did and was made to do. Today, as I was processing with the Lord, this song came to my mind, and I was struck by the line, There's nothing too dirty, that You can't make worthy.

See, I don't know about you, but there are some things that I just think are too dirty. There are things that I try to clean up by myself, but they just won't budge. I can't get clean. But, just like the Magic Eraser can erase dirt and grime that other cleaner can't, my God takes His righteousness, mercy, and blood and, with hardly any elbow grease, erases all my dirt, filth, and grime. He makes me clean. Like a Magic Eraser, He, a perfect, pure, white, spotless lamb, takes on my dirt and filth, leaving me clean in His wake.

Are you feeling a bit dirty today? Take heart knowing that there is nothing too dirty that He can't make worthy. He can make you clean. All you have to do is ask Him. He's more than willing and ready.

A Tangible God

Throughout the last decade of my life, I have often been frustrated that God is not tangible. Many times I've just needed a hug from Him, or have just wanted to snuggle with Him. I've often cried out, "Why can't you just be tangible?!? I just want to feel you." I know He's with me, even though I can't feel Him. But, I just want to feel His arms wrapped around me. I want to hear His heartbeat as my head leans against His chest. I want Him to be touchable.

But, I know it's better that He's not. He told His disciples that it was better for them that He go away, so that He could send His Holy Spirit. His Spirit would be able to do what He could not. He could not be with each one of them at the same time no matter where they were, but His Spirit could be. Even though I know it's better that He's not tangible, I still want Him to be. I long to feel Him in a real, physical way.

I was journaling about all of this recently, asking Him if I could feel Him like I can feel my friend. So often I don't think I can feel Him. I try, but it doesn't feel real. In a moment of wanting Him to be so real, I wrote, "If you're real, I want to hear you. If you're real, I want to feel you. What do you smell like?" I have a sensitive nose. When I go into someone's house or meet someone, I notice their scent. Everyone's is different. Some of those scents are comforting, because they are associated with people I'm close with. It only seems to reason that God must have a scent, right?

After asking God what He smells like, my thoughts went into overdrive. I began to write,

You sound like the water trickling in the stream. You feel like a warm blanket wrapped around me. You smell like the earth after it rains. You sound like birdsong. You feel like cozy pajamas. You smell like fleshly bloomed flowers. You sound like the wind blowing through the trees, and you feel like the wind blowing through my hair. You smell like my favorite candle burning. You sound like the rain dripping on the roof. You feel like a warm shower. You smell like fresh brewed coffee. You feel like the sun shining warm on my face.

Scripture wasn't kidding when it was written that, "...the whole earth is filled with His glory" (Isaiah 6:3). He is all around me. All I have to do is look around to tangibly see, feel, hear, and smell Him. To smell Him, I just have to discover what scents bring me joy. To hear Him, I listen for what sounds bring peace to my soul. To feel Him, I think about what I can feel that brings comfort. And seeing Him? Well, I just look around.

He may not be tangible like you and me, but He's still a tangible God.