A quiver full to set free of ashes

Just a couple of excerpts from a book I'm currently reading from Beth Moore, called "Breaking Free" that I found particularly touching:

One of the primary reasons God sent His Son to this earth was to bring tender salve and relief to those whose hearts have been broken. I believe that only God can truly and completely heal shattered hearts. He uses different methods; but according to Isaiah 61:1, one of His greatest priorities is binding up the brokenhearted.

Let's take an in-depth look at this wonderful part of the ministry He assigned to His Son in Isaiah 61:1. I pray that you will be as blessed as I am over the original meanings God led me to discover in Isaiah 61:1. Don't proceed quickly. Take in the following truths slowly. Meditate on them and feel vastly loved. Take notice of the second active verb in the verse: "He has sent me." The Hebrew word for "sent" is shalack, meaning "to shoot (forth)".

Psalm 127:3-4 says that "sons are a heritage from the LORD, / ...like arrows in the hands of a warrior." We know from John 3:16 that Jesus is God's only begotten Son. John 3:17 tells us God gave His Son for the salvation of people by sending Him into the world.

You see, God only had one arrow in His quiver. The most perfect arrow ever to exist, a masterpiece, priceless to Him. Cherished far above all the hosts of heaven. Nothing could compare. His only heritage. His only Son. But as God looked on a lost world - desperate and needy and in the clutches of the enemy - His heart was overwhelmed. Though they had sinned miserably against Him and few sought Him, God had created them in love and could not love them less.

Love reached sacrificially into the quiver and pulled forth the solitary arrow. The quiver would now be empty, His cherished arrow in the hands of hateful men. Yes, God so loved the world; but God also loved His only begotten Son with inexpressible, divine affection. The divine dilemma: two loves. And one would demand the sacrifice of the other. He positioned the weapon, pulled back the bow, steadied His grip, aimed straight for the heart: "And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger" (Luke 2:7 KJV).

pp.110

This moved me so to tears. We hear John 3:16 so often that I feel it's lost it's meaning, it's impact. The way she words it here is so careful and illustrative...I had to stop reading for a moment.

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Before the next part, I'll paint the picture of what actually happened to Tamar. In 2nd Samuel 13:1-22, we read about her. She was the daughter of King David, and one of her half brothers, Amnon was infatuated with her, for she was very beautiful. One day he pretended to be sick, and had their father send her to him to tend to his illness. When she came close to feed him, he grabbed her.

"Don't, my brother!" she said to him. "Don't force me. Such a thing should not be done in Israel! Don't do this wicked thing. What about me? Where could I get rid of my disgrace? And what about you? You would be like one of the wicked fools in Israel. Please speak to the king; he will not keep me from being married to you." But he refused to listen to her, and since he was stronger than she, he raped her."

-2 Samuel 13:12-14

Afterward, he demanded she leave his chambers, angered by his guilt. He commanded a servant to shut the doors after her, a subtle ploy to inform the servant and further her shame, for servants talk. She rent her clothes and covered her head in ashes (in those days this was an expression of great grief). When her brother found out, he told her to be quiet and get over it, and when her father found out, he did nothing. After all this, this beautiful girl lived out her days as a "desolate woman".

In a chapter about the bridegroom, Moore opens with a fictional ending to Tamar's story to illustrate what could have happened for her and can happen for any woman once she gives her grief over to Christ and chooses to heal:

Imagine Tamar: grief-stricken, sobbing, ashes on her head. Her body in a heap on the cold floor. Soot covers her beautiful face and smears the rich colors of her torn robe. Her outward appearance echoes the cavernous darkness in her soul. Hopelessness and death well up in her. She is nothing but a tomb.

The door of her room slowly creaks open. A stream of cloudy sunlight pours through the door. A figure of a man takes form within it. Not Absalom. No, she would recognize Absalom anywhere. Her heart jumps with sickening terror, then the figure steps through the door and His visage becomes clear. Tamar has never seen Him before, yet He looks so familiar. Not frightening. And she should be frightened. No man should be entering her chamber. She should run, but she cannot seem to move.

She glances down at the hands that seem paralyzed on her lap, suddenly shamefully aware of her ash-covered appearance. Wretchedness sears her heart. She is certain her violated estate is obvious. She despises herself.

"Tamar," the man speaks gently and with warm familiarity.

Her heart sobs, "She is dead!" A slave of shame has taken her place.

He approaches and takes her face in His hands. No one has ever done that before. The overwhelming intimacy turns her face crimson, not with shame but with vulnerability. His thumbs sweep over her cheeks and wipe the tears from her face. As He takes His hands from her face and places them on her head, her throat aches with fresh cries as she sees the filth on His hands. Her filth. He draws back His hands, and she senses something on her head. Perhaps in His mercy He has hooded her disgrace.

The man offers her His hands, still covered with soot, and she takes them. Suddenly she is standing. Trembling. He leads her to the brass mirror hung on the wall. She turns her face away. He lifts her chin. She gives the mirror only a glance. Her heart is startled. She begins to stare. Her face is creamy white. Her cheeks are blushed with beauty. Her eyes are clear and bright. A crown sits on her head, and a veil flows from its jewels to her shoulders. Her torn coat is gone. A garment of fine white linen graces her neck and adorns her frame. The King's daughter, pure and undefiled. Beauty from ashes.

- pp. 145-146.

Sigh, isn't that beautiful? And that is what happens in the Spirit when He heals us!

"I delight greatly in the LORD;
my soul rejoices in my God.
For he has clothed me with garments of salvation
and arrayed me in a robe of righteousness,
as a bridegroom adorns his head like a priest,
and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels."
-Isaiah 61:10