A Dirty Cross and Me

I tend to feel a little nostalgic on Thursdays, thanks to the #ThrowbackThursday trend across various social media networks. Actually, I’ve felt a bit nostalgic each day this week, remembering great memories from high school and my time at Calvin. I’ve also been thinking a lot lately about my transition to Cincinnati and my first summer here.

I was listening to a Spotify playlist this afternoon and Bastille’s “Things We Lost In The Fire” came on. The lyrics instantly brought me back to a missiontrip we went on here in Cincinnati during my internship that summer. We spent the first day helping a family clean up after a house fire that occurred the day before. I left that afternoon with a small wooden cross that survived the fire and when our trip was over, I wrote about how I found beauty in the ashes that week.

The cross now sits on the top shelf of one of my bookshelves, right next to a beaded keychain I received from a wonderful Navajo woman on that summer’s trip to New Mexico. I see it often and it brings back beautiful memories of that summer when I had no idea what the heck I was doing in this city.

That summer, it taught me about finding beauty in the ashes and joy in dark places. Since then, I’ve found new meaning in this small piece of wood. It’s still dirty and if you smell it up close, there’s still a faint smell from the fire. If I’m honest, it’s a little gross, but I love it anyway. Not one part of me desires to wash it off or throw it out.

I love it because it’s not perfect. It has literally been through a fire. It’s discolored. It’s dirty. It’s something that would have been thrown out, had I not kept it.

I look at this cross in my room and I see myself.

I’m so incredibly far from perfect. I’m broken and sinful. No matter how hard I try, I will still fail because I’m only human. My life has been one season of rollercoaster rides after another. In the last five years alone, I’ve battled so many different things; I’ve been in and out of more figurative fires than I can remember.

And yet Jesus looks at me and calls me His. His child. His beloved.

He looks at me and doesn’t see my brokenness. He doesn’t see my failures. He doesn’t see how dirty or discolored I am. He sees me and he calls me beautiful. Redeemed. Worthy.

Society kind of sucks sometimes and it can feel like they’re throwing me out, but dang, is it comforting to know that there is not a single thing I can do that will make Jesus love me any more or any less.

beauty.

my TOMS are covered in ashes and reek like smoke, but I can’t bring myself to wash them, and probably won’t for quite some time. each time I wear them, each time I get close enough to smell them, I’ll be reminded of this week. we spent Monday afternoon helping one of the nicest families I’ve ever met clean up their house and yard from the fire they experienced on Sunday.

I spent the afternoon with Julia (one of our student leaders) and Luke (one of the sons from the family), cleaning up burnt boards, piles of ash, and the majority of Luke’s belongings from the space between their house and their neighbor’s. Luke’s positive attitude throughout the afternoon was so inspiring; he (and his whole family, really) reminded me that our possessions are of this world and so very temporary. at one point in the afternoon, Luke handed me the cross pictured above. the front side is a little grayed from the ashes, while the back is quite burnt.

this cross, this small piece of beauty, was found buried in a pile of ashes. it was found among boards, clothing, sports equipment, letters and pictures, things that were tossed into trash bags without a second thought.

it reminded me of life.

we can find beauty in the big parts of life, like a trip to the Grand Canyon with a beautiful group of friends, but we tend to find beauty more often in the little things. we find beauty in clouds in the sky on a hard workout day. we find beauty in encouraging conversations with people we admire. we find beauty in the carefree laughter and joy of young children.

we find beauty easily when life is going well, when things are working out for us, when we understand the plan for our lives. but what about when life is tough, when things aren’t working out, when we have no idea what lies ahead?

my challenge to you is this: when life gets messy, strive to find beauty in the ashes.