'Beauty for ashes'

What it really means to have life after death

A year or two after my divorce I was in a church and I went up to the front for prayer. I was overcome with emotion and stood there openly weeping. As the pastor prayed for me, his face looked troubled as he said that I would have “beauty from ashes”. This is based on a Bible scripture in Isaiah 61:3 which reads:

To all who mourn in Israel, he will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning, festive praise instead of despair.

At the time, my life was in turmoil so I very much focused on the “beauty” part of this promise of redemption. And I have done ever since. Until this weekend, while, watching a TV character fuss over the lost remains of a beloved pet, I realised that the presence of ashes means something has died.

Up until this point, I had understand the scripture to be reminiscent of Aaliyah’s lyrics, ‘pick yourself up and try again!’ (Try again 2000 – and thank you, I just lost 20 mins down a rabbit hole reading into conspiracy theories about her death the year after this was released) or like the scripture in Proverbs 24:16 which reads:

The godly may trip seven times, but they will get up again.

But the earlier scripture in Isaiah was no tripping up over untied shoelaces. Ashes = death.

I’ve had a pensive few weeks and one of the things I ask myself often is why life has to be so hard for some of us. Why do doors not open and windows remain firmly shut? Essentially, why do bad things happen to good people? (Not that I am always, ahem, good.) And that’s even before we get into the wider world conflict and the atrocities people are experiencing on a daily basis.

Christians believe that Jesus Christ came as the human manifestation of God himself, and his resurrection is what we celebrate at Easter – the rising of Jesus having conquered death. Even before he died, he brought a man called Lazarus back from the dead (John chapter 11) and the concept of life after death pervades throughout scripture.

Why do good things, and people, die? My mini me died in her early 20s at the end of last year and we wept over her body in the open coffin at the service. There was no resurrection for her. My own daughter died shortly after birth and her father and I wept over her tiny body as I held her in my arms. There was no resurrection for her.

I realise there has been a version of me; maybe even several versions, that have died over the years. There are ashes scattered everywhere and if you’ve ever had a hope or dream die then maybe you understand. I have had to lay down many dreams and sometimes I simply pivot, but other times I really do have to let them go – permanently.

But, beauty from ashes. That’s a real thing. Just like the Japanese art of Kintsugi, God can make beautiful what was once nothing but a pile of dust and a memory of something ending.

You, my dear reader, will rise again.

Tola x

I’m  the editor and creative director at Premier Woman Alive and co-host of the YouTube show Sisterhood. In 2019, I delivered a TEDx Talk on Debunking the Myth of Success and my first book, 'Still Standing:100 Lessons From An 'Unsuccessful' Life' (SPCK) is out now.