Beautiful Things in Mysterious Places
I find a strange beauty in fallen trees. It is kind of a weird thing to call beautiful. But stay with me here. After a tree dies and falls, one would think its usefulness is over. Of course, it is wood and can be used to create new things. We all recognize that.
But I am talking about the fallen trees in the middle of the forest - the ones with no hope of new foliage or growth. You have seen them - those trunks and stumps with no human to claim them to make a desk or paper or art. Picture this once mighty tree that will now lay on the forest floor, dead and decaying for who knows how long. Maybe you have felt like this tree. I know I have.
After being widowed, I felt like every part of me was dead or decaying. I saw no hope or usefulness beyond just trying to survive as a newly single mom and widow.
The truth is that I had believed I would be a pastor’s wife till the day I died myself. That life was something I felt called to from the age of 8, and I loved it. I loved the connections and I loved pouring my heart into our church family. I don’t always understand it, but for some reason, even when we act like spoiled children, fighting over who gets to sit in the front seat, God continues to use the church to accomplish God’s ways on earth. Despite our selfishness and despite the way we fail to be like Christ, God still loves the church. And I do too. So when all of a sudden that identity was taken from me, I didn’t know who I was any more.
When we see death and suffering and loss, we often try to rush past and avert our eyes. It makes us uncomfortable and anxious. I believe that is why we tend to say the dumbest things to people in pain and grief. Their loss makes us question our own vulnerability, and we rush to make the person feel better so that we can feel better too.
When someone you love is grieving, simply make space and sit and keep watch with them. Nothing you say can fix the hurt and loss. But your presence does help. It is an absolute gift to know know someone is simply there to sit with you and hold space for the emptiness and pain.
These empty spaces are where I believe we need to stop and ponder. I think, if we are courageous enough to look a little closer, we will see something new in the midst of the loss. Now, I am not advocating rushing through grief or simply looking for the proverbial silver lining. Grief is a long, hard journey and nothing can change that. There is a loss there - a real, gut wrenching, life changing loss.
Let’s go back to that fallen tree. Once it hits the ground, the life it knew is over. There is no going back. However, I am curious about what happens next. After the grief has softened and after the empty spaces have been acknowledged, what happens then?
What I see in fallen tree trunks that is so beautiful and so hopeful is that, after a time, there is life that moves in uninvited. Maybe a squirrel uses the openings to store nuts. Under the log, in the dark, moist ground, insects find safety and sustenance. Moss or lichen grows on the trunks. The fallen trunk didn’t even ask for it, but life happens. That dead, decaying tree becomes a place with a new purpose. Hope springs up, and there is beauty in the loss.
I don’t really know how to explain it, but God has been present to me during the past 3 &1/2 years in ways I still don’t understand. There have been plenty of moments when I have been angry or felt betrayed or couldn’t find words to pray. I have cried to God from the depths of my bones and felt only silence and emptiness. But I still believe that Holy Spirit was there, hovering and praying over me in “groanings that cannot be expressed in words” (Romans 8:26 NLT) I felt her presence in those dark moments and days.
There is a strange and mysterious beauty in dead trees. It doesn't make sense.
There is also a strange and mysterious beauty in grief. It really doesn’t make sense. It may take years to recognize. It often comes without permission or invitation.
God’s presence is real in grief, in ways it is not (maybe it cannot be) in joy or in everyday life. I propose that God uses even death to create something of beauty.
“For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness. I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.” Isaiah 43:19 (NLT)
Here is a song my sister, Mary, introduced me to a couple of years ago that speaks to finding beauty in lost and lonely places. It is called Beautiful Things by Gungor. Have a listen and let God speak into your silent spaces.
Where has God met you in the quiet, dark places of grief and suffering? What strange and mysterious places have you seen a glimpse of beauty? How can I pray for you today?