Hello friend, Ana-Joel here. I am adjunct faculty at the Cleveland Institute of Art (I teach Art History), I’m the owner of my art studio Falcon Grove Studio (I’m a watercolorist), and I’m a momma of one 7 year old boy (who is holding on to a very loose front tooth). My friend, Linda, asked me over a cup of coffee not too long ago to share with you, and I have been thinking for the last few days about renewal. What first comes to mind when you hear the word renewal? Perhaps you think of things made new, of Spring coming back, of reclaiming a weed-covered yard and making it into a garden full of new life. Maybe you think of your most recent home renovation project, bringing new life to an overlooked and underused little corner behind some stairs. Perhaps your memory takes you back to a surprising find at an antique shop and you reclaimed an old item and gave it new life.
The theme here seems to be new life. We all love a good redemption story. We like to be on the other side, past the storm, across the battle field. But for new life to come and for things to be made new, we have to go through a type of death. Just like there cannot be a victory without a battle or resurrection without death, so renewal cannot come about without transformative change. The Apostle Paul writes “This phrase, ‘Yet once more,’ indicates the removal of things that are shaken—that is, things that have been made—in order that the things that cannot be shaken may remain.”
Are things being shaken in your life right now? Is anything falling that you cannot seem to catch or patch back together? I want to tell you a little story, a sacred story to me.
A little while ago my marriage fell apart. I found myself grabbing at dust, trying to fit the pieces back together and praying fervently, asking God to save my marriage, pleading for my husband to be transformed. Instead of saving my marriage, however, and in His infinite goodness and mercy, God saved me. He sat with me, and from the safety of His bosom and over time, I saw it. I witnessed a moment of creation. He had been making something new. After everything was shaken and the dust settled, some things remained: the ebenezers, the stones of remembrance, unshakable reminders of God’s power and goodness and love.
Some things need to die for something else to be brought back to life. What if in renewal, in the making of new things, some old familiar things are left behind? What if the new looks nothing like the old? What if there is change implied in newness? What if in renewal the pieces no long fit in their old familiar places?
I want to hold space to grapple with the loss in transformative change. Give yourself time and space to grieve the loss. Perhaps of a dream or a hope. Perhaps of a vision of the future or an expectation of yourself or someone else. Hold that for a moment and know that there is no better place for loss than Christ’s own hands. Give him your loss and tell Him of your grief and disappointment. Share with Him the pains of growth and grieving. And know that the sun will rise again with healing on its wings. Know that the One who spoke Creation into being is making something new. Expect to witness a moment of creation and know that with new life also comes great joy. It is the joy of having lost and having found, the joy of seeing beauty come from ash, the joy of seeing sorrow turn to song, the joy of lament risen into praise.
I will leave you with this watercolor winter landscape I painted recently.
I paint because I am happy
I paint because I’m free
His eye is on the sparrow and I know He watches me.
— Ana-Joel Falcon-Wiebe December 2024
Beautifully written. Thank you for sharing your insight on how God does use all things for His good and is watching over us.