I was 16 years old when I discovered I was pregnant. I remember looking at my reflection in the mirror with total disbelief and shock. Have you ever had a moment where your life flashed before your eyes? That’s what it was like. But instead of my past, I watched as everything I envisioned for my future die. I watched as everything I had hoped for shatter into a million peaces. Every dream I ever dreamt lit into flames and burned to ashes. There was nothing left of my future as I knew it. No going off to college. No marrying a man who would love me and lead me the way I deeply desired. No senior prom, or sleepovers with my friends. All of it gone. The dreams I hadn’t even begun to dream yet, were not even going to be in the equation. I was alone, I was afraid, and I was broken. 

Once the news got around, and let me tell you it was lightening fast. (There are both pros and cons of living in a small town.) That’s when my walls went up. I knew that everyone was whispering behind my back. I knew the things they were saying about me. I saw the side eye judgmental looks coming at me like daggers. I knew, like clockwork, I would have to run to the bathroom during first block every day to throw up without fail. This was my reality now. I had gone from good student, member of the dance team, pastors daughter to the most talked about individual of my small town.

“Don’t let them see you sweat.” That’s what was on constant replay in my mind. It was like a motto to myself. I put on a brave face for the world. Nobody ever saw me cry, only smile. I cried alone but only when I allowed myself, which honestly wasn’t very often. I watched as plenty of people I knew cried for me, but not me. I was stoic. Too afraid to let my own feelings in, I did not have time to deal with feelings. There were too many of them, and they were far too overwhelming to handle. I had bigger things than my own feelings to worry about. Bigger things to figure out. A lot of logistics to get ready for that I knew nothing about.

Eventually, my own feelings started to take over. I didn’t mean for them to, but how could they not? On the outside I was solid as granite, but on the inside I was starting to crack. I was worried that I would have to break my own rule and people would see me struggle. Eventually the words people were saying about me started to take root in my own mind and grow. Weeds grow fast. And I started believing all the things being whispered behind my back. I believed lies.

One Sunday morning, a wife of one of the pastors at my church, Gloria, came up to me and handed me a scripture on a little sticky note. It was Luke 6:21, “Blessed are you who weep now, for you shall laugh.” She didn’t have to ask me if I was weeping. She knew. She acknowledged my grief, but showed me the promise that said I wouldn’t weep forever. The promise of laughter. I clung to that promise as tightly as I could. I said it over and over in my head. It got me out of bed every morning. It allowed me to fall asleep every night. And the promise was true. Because He is always faithful to keep his promises.  My heart began to soften because of this new found hope, and I began to see that there were still people in my life who didn’t want to shame me but wanted to build me up.

 The sweet ladies at my church threw a baby shower for me. They wanted to celebrate me even though I didn’t feel as though I deserved celebrating. And my dearest, truest friend Isabelle threw a shower for my circle of friends from school. It was then I knew how truly loved, welcomed and not forgotten I was. Just how much people deeply cared about me. I wrote thank you notes for hours every evening until my hand couldn’t write any longer. There was so much grace being poured out over me that it was impossible to feel any other way but loved and seen.

I was so humbled by the kindness of those who loved me unconditionally that I had a complete perspective shift. In that time the only thing I could offer God was my broken spirit, my shattered heart, the literal ashes of my previous life. I had nothing else of myself to give. And thats all he wanted from me. That’s all he ever wanted to begin with, my heart in its sincerest form. I love how The Message words it. “I learned God-worship when my pride was shattered. Heart-shattered lives ready for love don’t for a moment escape God’s notice (Psalm 51:17).” I could offer only ashes, and in their place he gave beauty.

It wasn’t until just a few years ago, while I was listening to a podcast, that Joel chapter 2 was poured into my heart. My favorite verses are 25-26, “I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten- the great locust and the young locust, the other locust and the locus swarm-my great army that I sent among you. You will have plenty to eat, until you are full, and you will praise the name of the Lord your God, who has worked wonders for you; never again will my people be shamed.” It so perfectly stated how I now felt. When I was 16 and 17, I lived through really difficult days. I had so often felt swarmed by locusts, so many types of locusts. I felt as though they had eaten away everything I had, all my dreams, plans, hopes, and desires. It wasn’t until I heard this out loud that I realized this is exactly what God has done for me. 

The years of my life eaten by locust have been repaid to me. The dreams I thought I had to let die, God restored. The hopes I had for my life, God filled. The desires I had for myself, God gave to me. The plans I created, God improved. I had made choices that made it seem as though the life I always longed for was impossible. But we serve a God that says “nothing is impossible for me”. The things I thought I ruined the chances of, were still given to me. In a bigger way than I could ever have dreamed. Trenton, my husband, came into my life in a miraculous way, which is a whole other story of redemption for another time. I may not have went “off” to college, but I went to college. I was even given a vocal scholarship, which was so humbling. I went to senior prom and was voted prom queen, that completely shocked me. I had many sleepovers with my friends. God did the impossible in my life. He continues to do the impossible every single day. And I laughed, a lot. I’m still laughing. 

Some scars are still there. So invisible to everyone else and yet so obvious to me. The mindset of constant worrying what everyone will think about the choices I’m making, is still something I have to daily overcome. Those thoughts from when I was 16 and 17 really consumed my mind for years. The times that some people went out of their way just to be cruel, I can’t erase. But those moments don’t bother me anymore. I’ve grown so much from that experience. It’s almost as if it happened to somebody else.

I often think of my life in two sections, before my world got flipped upside down and after. I think of how I walked though fire but that I never walked alone. I look back and think how this experience made me into such a strong woman. How much wisdom I gained from it. That becoming a mom is such a blessing. I wouldn’t trade any of it.

God really does give beauty for ashes. When I offered up the ashes of my life wholeheartedly, He then, in return, gave me a life that I thought I had thrown away. And He gave me himself, thats the beauty.