I’d had a miscarriage about 3 weeks before I stood at the edge of a gorge in Queensland marvelling at its beauty. Up to that stage, the miscarriage had been the hardest thing I’d ever known, and tears were never very far away. (This was 20 years ago almost exactly).
I began to hum the old chorus “He gives me beauty for ashes” as I stood there looking across what would have been caused by some cataclysmic event, now so beautiful… a waterfall on the opposite side, tropical plants growing lush on every possible surface. Peace, beauty, the sound of rushing waters. A perfect picture of the song.
That was probably the first time I understood from the inside out how from something devastating – something beautiful can be formed.
With time.
He gives me beauty for ashes
The oil of joy for mourning
The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness
That we might
Be seeds of righteousness
The planting of the Lord
That He might be glorified.
——-
- Photo credit: David Millard