It is not uncommon to see hillsides of lava rock next to the road surrounded by trees and foliage. Lassen last erupted in 1914 so I am unaware of how far the damage had actually reached. To see the area now you would never know.
Not so with Mount St. Helens in Washington. It erupted in 1980. I remember driving up to see the devastation area in the early ‘90s. Driving up the highway you would never know anything had occurred. Then—you came over a rise and everything changed on a dime.
There seemed to be a demarkation line where trees stood tall and undamaged and yet, immediately next to them lay others, broken and burned like matchsticks. Volcanic ash still covered everything and the mountain looked barren.
BUT--
As we drove through the devastation, the landscape was already changing. Grasses and flowers had already come back and we could see small trees taking root. I later learned that ants and pocket gophers survived and the fallen trees provided homes for insects and “much needed nutrients into the parched system.” In fact, plant life began returning within the first year (“35 years after Mount St. Helens eruption, nature returns).
This world can dish out hardship and sorrow. Loss of a loved one. Loss of a pet. Loss.
Sometimes it explodes like a volcano; at other times it creeps up like rising flood water.
The saints of the Bible would put ashes on their head as a sign of humility and grief. Ashes represented desolation and ruin. Rock bottom.
But God the creator is also God the restorer. Just as we see nature return from the ashes, Isaiah 61 reminds us that God will turn the tables on sorrow as well. He will free captives and heal the brokenhearted. “He will comfort all who mourn . . ., give them beauty for ashes, The oil of joy for mourning” (vs. 3).
God provides peace to weather the storm. He sends sources of joy. And He promises beauty in our future.