Beauty From Ashes: Reviewing My Year

2024 is rapidly coming to an end. It is a year full of changes, challenges, and comfort. So, before moving into 2025, I wanted to stop and remember. To thank God for the times He has met me, for the friends he has put in my life along the way, and for reminders that seven years down the road, there is beauty in the midst of ashes. 

Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others (1 Peter 4:10)

A considerable part of my life since Bryan died has been about helping others in the midst of their grief. During the Spring semester, we trained a new group of leaders and tried something new – we had a Mother’s Day Tea for Grieving Moms. It was not a new concept, but it was the first time we offered it, and we included moms dealing with infertility. Infertility is a big part of my heart as it became real as my daughter, Robin, has struggled for the last several years.

I can also look back and see that time spent in the unique ministry I find myself in, working with those in a season of grief, gave me opportunities to meet new men and women facing the challenges that come with grief. Each one touched my life, and I pray I touched theirs as well.

Encourage one another and build one another up (1 Thessalonians 5:11)

One of the sweet parts of my job is encouraging and equipping volunteers. Each week, they step into the lives of men and women in crisis pregnancies. It is a draining ministry, and we wanted to encourage our staff and volunteers in the spiritual battle they face.

About nine years ago, part of that “equipping” included a day of “rejuvenation and reflection.” The idea was to set aside a day to connect with our volunteers, board, and staff through team building, fellowship with one another, and connection with God. When COVID hit, our retreat day was put on hold for a few years; this year, we brought it back. I am pretty sure it encouraged me as much as it did those participating, as it allowed me space to create prayer practices around our theme of Everlasting (Psalm 90:2).

A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity. (Proverbs 17:17)

This fall, our church community walked through a heavy season—one loss after another.

A man lost his wife.
Another lost his elderly mother.
Then, a woman in our group lost her mom.

Three funerals in just fourteen days.

As I sat at the third service, I couldn’t help but wonder how it was affecting everyone else. Hearing the same hymns. The same Scriptures. Watching another family walk that long aisle. Listening to another eulogy—only to think of the one you’d heard just days before.

And then, eight days later, I was the one walking that aisle… at my own dad’s funeral.

The sheer number of decisions you have to make in such a short time—it’s staggering. And yet, something beautiful stood out in the middle of it all:

We were not alone.

We had a community of friends who showed up—who walked beside us, carried burdens, and met needs without being asked.

Even in the thick of our grief, we found moments of shared joy. One of those came unexpectedly when many of us attended a Gala together—not long after the last funeral. There was laughter, good food, and even lightness. Somehow, it didn’t feel inappropriate. It felt healing.

Loss is inevitable.
But loving one another through it? That’s always a choice.

For everything there is a season… a time to weep, and a time to laugh (Ecclesiastes 3:1-4)

I’ve shared before about memories I’ve attached to my son’s death. This year that felt bigger as it was a “bigger birthday,” my 60^th. The question for me is, what am I going to do about it? Will I choose unhelpful things like isolating myself and refusing to be with friends who are life-giving, or will I allow others who have wept with me to now laugh with me?

Fortunately, I have a little help choosing helpful things. Birthday celebrations started 2 weeks early at work (because I take off around Bryan’s anniversary), including a “Julie worthy” bad birthday song; I had a birthday breakfast with two different friends; I had a sweet phone call to talk about how I was doing heading into the holidays with two other friends; my husband arranged a fun overnight adventure with my girlfriends, AND my girls came in town to surprise me. The image I chose to remember that weekend was actually of my daughter going to church with me the Sunday before Christmas.

Reflection

• As you look back on your year, what moments stand out to you? 
• Where have you found beauty in the ashes of grief? 
• Who or what can you give thanks for? 
• What, if anything, will you do differently in the year to come?