Rhythms of Restoration: Practicing Grief on the Path of Grace; A Field Guide of Mini-Retreats for the Hurting and Those Who Help Them

INTRODUCTION: STRUGGLING WITH THE TIDE OF GRIEF

I waited patiently for the LORD; he turned to me and heard my cry.

He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock

and gave me a firm place to stand.—Psalm 40:1–2

I visited the famous French abbey at Mont Saint-Michel, perched on a rock off the Normandy coast, in July 2013 and saw a line of pilgrims walking through the sand during an outgoing tide. We were warned that the tide could come in quickly and when it did, the sand would turn from a firm base to quicksand. In earlier times, unwary pilgrims regularly drowned in the oncoming tide. This stimulated several thoughts for me regarding spiritual formation.

Even the strongest of Christians can be caught off guard by grief. When loss occurs, despair can roll in much like an unexpected tide. When that tide comes, emotional pain can feel a lot like the quicksand surrounding Mont Saint-Michel. We can be consumed in the mire of a broken heart as our thoughts linger on loss, disappointment, traumatic memories, fear, or hopelessness. Sleep can be elusive; in the lonely watches of the night our thoughts can take us deeper into the mire. We cannot get ourselves out of the quicksand. The more we struggle, the further toward drowning in our pain we go. We need help. We need to be rescued.

Our Creator is very familiar with the miry clay of life we call quicksand. Chapter 2 of Genesis says that God formed us out of the dirt of the ground and breathed in the breath of life. The prophets explain that God is the potter and we are the clay. The very nature of God is to scoop up mud and turn it into something amazing.

What if the thick earth of grief that feels like quicksand can be molded and shaped by the very hand of God? What if the miry clay of our loss is something God can breathe into?

Stop for a moment and picture your quicksand of grief. What does it look like? Imagine God scooping His hand of love into it. Picture God forming that earth in a loving palm. Envision the very breath of God blowing into that dirt.

A TREASURE TO BE FOUND

Paul explains that there is a treasure in the clay (see 2 Corinthians 4:7). Can it be that in the mud there is something of value? Again, stop for a moment and picture your clay-ness. What is the value within your dirt? Is there a treasure you can find?

When the flood of grief and pain comes in and surprises you with its intensity; when you feel as though you are in quicksand and cannot get out on your own, remember the character of our living God. God’s character is to create something out of the dirt, to scoop up mud and shape it into a self-portrait, to shape it into the image of love and then breathe life into it. Can you approach the mud of your life and invite God to play?

If God formed humanity by scooping dirt out of the earth, can’t it be done again? Can’t God reach into the pit, the tomb, the darkness of our grief and pull us out to breathe life into us? From the beginning this was God’s way. It happened at the Genesis of our creation. It happened again at Calvary, and it can happen again today.

If this perspective of transformation is a struggle for you, be gentle with yourself. Cry out to God for help and then wait. Wait for the very nature and character of God to manifest. Wait for God to transform that miry pit into an empty tomb. Wait for God to shape you into the image of love. Wait for God to breathe life into you. Then breathe it back into a world struggling in the quicksand.

This kind of communion with God is intimate, sacred, and can be rare. Becoming still and entering into the quiet is not easy and it is a kind of prayer many avoid. To lament is a courageous act. It can be helpful to acknowledge what we are afraid of and why becoming still is so terrifying.

WHY WE AVOID THE QUIET

We all know it. Life has gotten fast and full. It has become a mantle of pride to be busy. We pack every waking moment with things to do. There is always some kind of technology to attend to. So often, our value is quantified by how much we have to do and how much we are needed. We use busy-ness as a protective shield for our vulnerable