Beauty From Ashes
I have a friend who lives a few light years away from me in Minnesota. I met and became friends with her husband the summer of 2002. By the summer of 2009 he was married, however, before he got married, we met to eat dinner together and meet his soon to be wife. She and I quickly became fast friends. The kind of friendship that glows like a little warm fire in the background, making sure you know you are never completely alone.
We became pregnant around the same time with her oldest, and my third child, Lollipop. She became deathly ill with HG. A condition that affects some pregnant women, making them violently sick, unable to keep down even water. Eventually they become so dehydrated, they have no choice but to go to the hospital for medical intervention, and a nice wet IV.
(I know there are more of you out there.)
A few years later, again we were both expecting our boys who we still call Bom and Boy. And a few years after that, she welcomed her beautiful little girl, and I waited a few more months before I had my little Ana-bana.
I asked her to share a little bit of her story of ashes that God turned into beauty.
Catie: My road to having real joy has not been an easy one. I'm not talking about happiness, which I feel when I paint another piece of furniture white or walk through the pearly ga-, ahem, doors, of Hobby Lobby. Happiness is fleeting and dissipates like mist in the morning sun when faced with adverse circumstances. I'm talking about joy, the kind that lives deep in the soul and only comes from the Creator.
My journey started in 2016 when I lost my daughter Avianna. A strange way to start, I know. I was 18 weeks pregnant when Avianna came into the world, tiny and still and perfect and already in Jesus' arms. The birth was horrific and I nearly died from a massive hemorrhage. I had vivid nightmares for well over a year afterward; I'd jolt awake, shaking, chilled, convinced I was bleeding out again. The first month after her death I was a hormonal mess, angry, deeply depressed, even briefly contemplating suicide once. I couldn't do it though; I had a husband and three other children to think about. I couldn't fall asleep for the longest time; hanging in that shrouded area between being awake and asleep was horrifying to me. It felt too much like losing consciousness when I hemorrhaged. I'd take Benadryl every night, depending on that to knock me out quickly.
Avianna’s, perfect little hands.
Time eventually brought about some healing emotionally. I did have good support, from my in laws and best friends and church, not to mention my husband. My mental state had improved, but my body was a wreck. I was severely anemic, and in constant pain. Some days the pain gripped me so intensely I'd end up back in bed, trying to manage my household from there. Being a good wife and mother felt impossible when I was laid up so much. I did my best, but those were some difficult years for us.
At last, after ER visits, ultrasounds and an initial misdiagnosis, I was diagnosed with pelvic congestion. I had only two options: live with the pain or have a hysterectomy. I took the cowardly way out and opted not to have surgery right away. I was flat-out scared of all the things that could go wrong.
Over the winter the pain grew more grueling and I grew weaker physically. I could finally bear it no longer, so in April 2018 I met with my doctor to discuss the inevitable. The day of the meeting I arrived at the clinic early. I sat in my car, frozen there, staring at the building, unable to go in. It dawned on me that after years of battling on my own strength, I had reached the end of myself. I had no more strength. Tentatively I began to pray, surrendering the entire situation to the Lord. I told God I trusted Him and placed myself into His hands. Without warning, as I prayed, all the walls I'd carefully, almost lovingly, constructed around my heart crumbled, and grace came rushing in like the sweetest water. I left the car and walked through the clinic doors with no hesitation. Things were now in more capable hands than mine.
I was nervous in the month before surgery. But when fear insidiously slithered in, I prayed or read the Bible, and God always left me reassured. One particularly hard day, when I couldn't stop thinking of all the potential complications I could face, I decided to go to the book of Luke, where I'd been reading the day before. My Bible, though, fell open to Thessalonians 5. My eyes alighted on verses 16-18:
"Rejoice evermore.
Pray without ceasing.
In every thing give thanks, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you."
Verse 18 changed my perspective. In every thing give thanks. Every. Thing. I was facing major surgery, and yet I was supposed to give thanks!
Over the next two weeks I read that verse daily. God was working in my heart like never before. There was a lot of healing during that time, especially over the deaths of my Dad and Avianna, who died just over a year apart. God gave me so much peace, and not only that, but a very real joy had begun growing.
Surgery went well. God showed me that He has perfect timing; during the operation the doctor discovered that my uterus had prolapsed significantly. Had I waited much longer it would have turned into an emergency. God truly had it under control!
It took me a while, but I learned that joy can't be manufactured. Joy comes from being in Christ and seeking His will for your life. No matter what you're facing, know that God is truly good! Storms of life will come but we are not called to live in fear. I used to think of these storms as a punishment, but now with a new perspective, I wonder what God is teaching me or working in my life. Through the loss of my sweet baby girl I learned to be still, to trust, to surrender my will to the one who always works for good. God always knows what he's doing, even when it's not clear to us, and His grace is deeper than we could ever imagine.
"In every thing give thanks, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you."
In every thing.
Not some.
All.
Trust. Listen. Surrender.
Give thanks.
You can see more of Catie on her Instagram, LinenandLefse
She is an incredibly talented interior designer, transforming their old, junky, 1976 mobile home into a glorious, airy farmhouse. She does all of it on a dime. And I do mean on a dime. Some of the furniture in their house cost less than $5.
After the loss of her daughter Avianna, she and her husband got into photography as healing therapy, and it shows in the mouth watering pictures of their home. All pictures on this post are hers.
I was with Catie through this entire time, but over a thousand miles apart. The only support I could give was prayer and constantly checking up on her. Even though I was so far away, I knew when she gave in to the Lord and was filled with joy. It was apparent right away as I watched her take pleasure in the little things of life again. Pain and suffering no longer consumed her. God did. She knew where to go for comfort and to be filled and she was no longer in despair, but thankful.
““In every thing give thanks, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.”
In every thing.
Not some.
All.
Trust. Listen. Surrender.
Give thanks.”
When you cease to be thankful, you will open yourself up to all manner of temptations. For a believer, being thankful is key.
When you repent from the sin of being unthankful and discover real thankfulness, you will discover contentment and freedom from all manner of sin that is dragging you down.
You are the clay. Your creator is the potter. When the time comes for you to be broken and smashed so that he can use the clay to make a more beautiful you, how will you respond? Will you lift your hands to him in supplication and rejoice in thankfulness at the breaking? Or will you fight it every step of the way, simply thinking life is not fair and “why me?”
Don’t let the breaking be wasted. Press back into your Lord with thanksgiving and rejoicing!
Catie’s three little ones “hiding” from her.