Flowers and Ashes
Looking Back on My Freshman Year
When I look at who I am versus who I was a year ago, the changes that have taken place are astounding. The Lord has grown and purified me through great joys and great challenges this past year. When people ask me about how my freshman year of college was, I tell them that there were high highs and low lows, which, knowing myself, isn’t surprising. I’ve heard the phrase “beauty from ashes” at various times in my life, but until a person suffers and sees the Lord use it for good, it’s impossible to truly know what that means.
The theme of beauty from ashes first came to my mind my senior year as I was working on a novel in which the characters walked through the gauntlet time and time again yet saw the beauty that resulted from their suffering. Toward the end of the summer, I came across a song (Flowers, by Samantha Ebert) that helped me better understand this metaphor in relation to God’s sovereignty. Some of the lyrics went like this:
“When I'm on the mountain and looking down below
I'll see a valley of flowers that needed time to grow
And I'll thank you for the rain
The hurt and days of pain”
I had no idea how tightly I would hold to those words in the months to come.
Stepping onto my college campus as a freshman was nothing new. I’d grown up spending time on this campus with my dad working there and living literally across the street from it, but it was a transition nonetheless. In August, I moved from my house to the dorm and began this new and exciting chapter of life. To go from childhood to adulthood is like whiplash to say the least, and although independence and new friendships and many fun memories awaited me, it was intimidating and left me with a sense of loss. My childhood had come to an end.
Looking back, freshman year was full of an insane amount of blessings and fun memories! So much of the time I was living the dream— stargazing in fields, having friends over to my house, surprise birthday parties, sunrise hikes, an intentional discipleship group, opportunities to serve at church, building deep friendships, and so many other memories.
At the same time, there was a learning curve ahead of me. Early on in the fall semester, I went on a sunset walk with my roommate on the underrated but beautiful cross country course. We talked about a lot of things, and I remember mentioning some of my specific fears as we stepped into this new phase of life. As a deeply relational person and a person who feels things deeply, I was concerned about the potential for hurt that could come from the many new friendships that college brought. I was afraid of the pain that might be in store, and everything in me wanted to figure out how to avoid that pain and guarantee smooth sailing for myself for the rest of my college experience.
But that is rarely how the Christian life works, and my Heavenly Father knew what would be good for me more than I did as I talked to my roommate that evening.
College brought a new experience of walking alongside friends going through difficult circumstances. As much as I hated to watch people I loved suffer, it was such a privilege to learn how to encourage and support them through these moments. I was strengthened in my faith just by watching these friends turn to the Lord and deepen their relationship with him amidst trials. It didn’t make sense. In my mind, the opposite could’ve easily happened. But that is the miracle of a life empowered by the Holy Spirit.
One of my favorite parts about my college experience this year was having chapel every day. We often sang Because of Jesus, by Charity Gayle in chapel. The bridge of the song became more and more meaningful as the year went on:
”You bring freedom to the captives
Good news to the poor
Healing to the broken
And joy to those who mourn
You turn ashes into beauty
The ruins You restore
I am a testimony
Of the goodness of the Lord”
I watched friends live that out as they grew so much in their faith through trials. Soon, I would watch in play out in my own life too.
My desire to avoid trials made me realize halfway through the spring semester that I was more like Job than I cared to admit, serving God at least partially out of a selfish motivation to receive worldly blessings from him. I found myself praying that God would test my faith so that my motivations in serving him would prove to be genuine. I should’ve known that would be a dangerous prayer, because he did test me.
To be honest, some of the fears I mentioned to my roommate at the beginning of the year came true. Friendships came and went and sometimes really didn’t go the way I wanted them to, leaving me feeling empty at times. Between that and some unexpected changes that came up for sophomore year, there were a few weeks in the spring semester when I fell into deep discouragement, blinded by the pouring rain and darkness of night, unable to see or even hope for the light of dawn. I remember one restless night when sleep eluded me because my heart literally physically hurt. These were the moments that helped me understand Jeremiah’s cry of utter despair in Lamentations: “Remember my affliction and my wanderings, the wormwood and the gall! My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me” (Lamentations 3:19-20).
This recognition of pain represents the utter brokenness this life holds for us, but the story doesn’t end there. Lamentations 3:21-24 is also true. The Lord’s steadfast love never ceases, and hope is found in him. Looking back, I wouldn’t change a thing because although I knew this truth in my head all my life, through the difficult moments this year I understood it because I truly lived it. Through the hard, I’ve never in my life been closer to God. I learned to understand that he and he alone is my portion and eternal hope. People are likely to fail you at some point or another, but God’s plan does not fail. He doesn’t change. He doesn’t abandon us. He doesn’t leave us hanging. He works all things together for good to shape us to be more like him (Romans 8:28).
God’s faithfulness was tangible through the things he taught me, the people he surrounded me with, and the way his presence was evident in the hardest moments. If I hadn’t walked through some difficult moments freshman year, I would not know how to encourage people who are suffering in the way I can now. I would lack the fuller understanding of the gospel that I’ve gained. I now have a clearer picture of God’s character, and I have an increasingly steadier trust in his plan for my life and for the world as a whole. I’m not at the top of the mountain yet, but I can already see some of the flowers that came from the rain I so resented in the moment. Flowers have become a constant reminder of the beauty that comes from ashes because of God’s faithfulness.
In class one day this past semester, a professor reminded us to “live with eternity in mind”. The phrase haunted me the rest of the week and has stuck ever since. If we can live with eternity in mind, we will be compelled to live on mission right now, even if it costs is. We can find peace in God through trials because we trust that he is working all things together for good and this suffering will not last forever (Romans 8:18). We’ll thank him for the blessings he provides us with because we know they point to something even greater. We can live without fear because as Christians we know that God will create beauty from the ashes. Eternal hope awaits us.