Beauty from Ashes (Fight like a Girl)

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There’s been a lot of ash in my life over the past few weeks.

What seemed one way was really another.

What seemed true turned out to be false.

What I thought I could count on fell right through the rotted floor.

But God is still good, and these hurts are not mine to vindicate. I say that like it’s easy to let God vindicate me. It isn’t.

I’ve felt hatred this week. I’ve repented of it, but I’m still fighting it. I think I will be for a while yet.

I learned this past weekend that real is the new pretty. Well this is my real, but I can’t come close to calling it pretty. It’s been ugly at its lowest form.

And I know whence all this came.

I released a book two weeks ago on Good Friday–a book exposing seven of the most commonly used Enemy weapons against women and a battle plan built specifically for each one. I don’t want any woman to be ill-equipped to combat the schemes of the Enemy of her Soul. Even well-armed this is hard enough. We must be prepared.

In the midst of the turmoil this week I received a message from a beautiful friend. It was only four words, but they pierced me through with conviction and hope: Read your own book. I plan to do just that.

My heart is to look for beauty in everything, and that’s easy to do when it’s all good. Lately it’s been harder to find good. But I’m digging, and I won’t stop until God shows me what good can come from such heartache and confusion. I know it’s there somewhere among the ashes, and I will find it.

Because I’m a hope girl through and through. Nothing will ever take that from me, and no one will ever deceive me out of this peaceful, beautiful life.

There is yet much to be done.

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RosHea2-gl

Twenty-four springtimes have now come to pass
Heather surrounded by daisies and grass
I wonder what you would be doing today
If so long ago you had not gone away
All this time later we all miss you still
And no doubt your family here always will
Your sweet little voice never uttered a cry
We whispered hello and then too soon goodbye
Years come and go, but know this to be true
In twenty-four more still we’ll love and miss you

Love you, our sweet Heather Rose Easterling
B/D April 18, 1990