The Contemplative Companion for Monday, March 27, 2017

O LORD, be my helper.
You changed my mourning into dancing;
O LORD, my God, forever will I give you thanks. – Psalm 30.13b

Recently, three families from the Democratic Republic of Congo were re-settled as refugees in apartments across from the church I serve. They just “showed up” one Sunday morning, to the great delight of everyone.

I can see in their faces a shadow of deep seated grief. I can only imagine what they have been through to get here.  What they have seen and heard and experienced in their war torn homeland. The disruption of life. There must be 15 children among the three families. And the matriarch looks particularly weary. She cannot speak or understand English, but they have been coming to worship each Sunday and even sitting through our Lectio Divina. I can sense there love for God and their reverence for the Scriptures – even if it is read in a language they do not yet understand.

Look everywhere and find in everyone the seed and shadow of grief. The question is what we let grief do to us. How much power we give it over us. There is a presence greater than our grief. It does not diminish or deny our griefs – it embraces our grief  and in grace and over time, transforms grief into dancing. I learn from the refugees that we might still be crying while we dance, but something happens while we let the Word and Silence of God come toward us in our grief as we come toward it too, and in that sacred meeting, a sacrament of healing can occur – inexplicable to the mind and experienced by the heart.

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