“The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, because the LORD has anointed me to proclaim good news…to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.”
-a portion of Isaiah 61:1-3
God’s word is absolutely overflowing with stories of redemption and recovery. I’ve been reading Genesis as part of my mission to make my way slowly through the Bible with no time agenda (this is my public rejection of the One Year Bible trend). And let me tell you, if God was not a God of redemption, the story of humanity would have ended reeeeal early. The excerpt I included above is just one example of God sending forth his eternal mission statement: I will take your dead things, your worthless things, the things you have ruined or that have been ruined for you and I will redeem. Because that is who I am.
Way back in the fall, I experienced a pretty devastating loss. I had found a job that I thought would be long term. It looked like a complete restructuring for me, a sharp turn from everything on my current resume to something new. It didn’t make complete sense but I thought I knew what was going on. I thought I knew God’s plan. Funny what usually happens when you think you have Him figured out.
The reality that would play out in my four months of that job was so divergent from my personal fantasy that I think I am still catching up in the process of absorbing and accepting the accompanying trauma. In the end, I had no choice but to leave. Four months. And suddenly, that job was done and I had a new job and I wasn’t quite sure what it all meant.
That brings us to yesterday.
Yesterday, we went on a family mission. I really wanted to catch the daffodils blooming at the botanical garden. If you time your visit right, their Daffodil Hill is a sight to behold. All week long I had been stressing about missing them. I stressed and fretted and examined every flower I passed in our neighborhood for signs that we were going to arrive too late.
Meanwhile, I was expecting a call. See, when I stumbled, grief-stricken out of my fourth-month-job and into another, the new job felt very temporary. However, it was a gift. It filled a gap that needed filling and I discovered as I settled in that I was surrounded by loving and kind people who cared about me. And in that moment, that was exactly what I needed. But it wasn’t a career. I wondered about my next steps. If I’m being honest, I wondered about them every day. That’s just the way my brain works.
But God was faithfully working even when I wasn’t sure what He had up His sleeve. I actually never lost faith even when I couldn’t see the path forward. Maybe it is the benefit of being 35 and having at this point lived through plenty of ups and downs. I have seen my ashes switched out for beauty enough. In my own limited human way, I know how God rolls. So while I wondered, I trusted. Trusted, wondered. Wondered, trusted. Endless cycle.
Standing in the garden, patiently winding our way through the paths that lead to Daffodil Hill, I received the call. It was from HR at my current workplace. It was a contract offer. An offer for a job that was so perfect it is still blinding me with the gleam of its wonder. It is a perfect fit for my resume and the things I love to do. I can draw a line from each piece of the job description to a piece of work experience in my past. My mind is already buzzing with dozens of things that I can’t wait to do. It feels meant to be. And out of the ashes of the pain of a job that didn’t work out even when I wanted to force it to, it feels like beauty.
The call went well. Things were in order. The contract would be in my inbox in the next few days. Details were wrapped and goodbyes said. I pocketed my phone. And then we rounded the corner.
On the hill, yellow and white and green exploded, the fireworks of spring. Bulbs giving up their secrets to a world undeserving.
I wandered into them, breathed in their sent. Months ago, I had researched projections for bloom dates and marked my calendar for this very moment because seeing them mattered that much to me. I didn’t know this date would align with another important moment. And I am so thankful. The hill has always been special to me. It has always held wonder. But now the the beauty runs a little deeper because it is intertwined with the victory I carried in my chest as I crested the hill and took it all in. Ashes and beauty and normal and anything but…all intersecting. Right here.
