“To grant to those who mourn in Zion- to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit; that they may be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he may be glorified.” Isaiah 61:3
Earlier this year, I took a trip to Death Valley National Park. If you have never been, the name says it all. It is the hottest, lowest, and driest place in the United States. Temperatures can soar to 134 degrees, and only about two inches of rain falls each year. It is a place that is almost uninhabitable, a land that feels lonely, barren, and desolate. Few choose to go there.
Life can sometimes feel like Death Valley, especially during seasons of hardship and loss. It is isolating, overwhelming, and crushing.
My family experienced such devastation last summer. While visiting Wild Rivers Water Park with his church youth group, my 11-year-old nephew, Titus, became unresponsive. He was rushed to CHOC, but despite immediate medical attention, he passed away. We later learned that he had an undetected congenital heart defect. Up until that day, he had been an active and healthy boy who had just finished fifth grade.
Walking through this desert of grief has been awful. It truly is a Death Valley. And yet, I know I am not alone. Jesus has been my comfort, my steady hope in the midst of desolation. As the Bible promises, He brings beauty from ashes and turns mourning into dancing.
The day after Titus passed, I forced myself to go to church. That morning, the worship team sang Graves into Gardens. It was too difficult to hear, and I had to leave the service. Now that some time has passed, that song reminds me of the hope and resurrection of Jesus. I hold on to the promise that one day, I will dance again in Heaven with Titus and all my loved ones. I know that this season of grief will be transformed. What feels like ashes now will one day become something beautiful. Jesus turns graves into gardens.
Although Death Valley is not a place I would ever want to visit in the summer, going in January was unexpectedly beautiful. I found color in a place that should have been lifeless. There were rocks in shades of green and blue, white salt flats that sparkled like fresh snow, and the air was cool and refreshing. In the middle of that seemingly barren land, we even found a place called Titus Canyon.
Jesus is our hope, our comfort, and our strength, even in life’s most desolate seasons. I rest in that assurance. No matter what difficulties we face, whether grief, illness, or conflict, Jesus never leaves us. He weeps with us, comforts us, and reminds us that true beauty awaits us in Heaven with Him.
In loving memory of
Titus Wininger
November 3, 2012- June 22, 2024
“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you abound in hope.” Romans 15:13
Jennifer Glicker, Hephatha Lutheran School, Anaheim, CA
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