Back almost ten years ago, the summer post her Daddy’s death, Brooke, our then rising Junior in College, was an assistant counselor/attendee for a children’s grief camp. Her life, devoted to helping two elementary school boys journey beyond their mother’s death, the camp director felt Brooke’s presence would add loving encouragement for this duo’s quest. Little did Brooke imagine the camp time would, also, bring guidance to her own grief stricken voyage.
A major camp endeavor was to allow its participants to uncage the hurt and anger stored within their fragile, young hearts. Why had God allowed/not prevented their loved one from dying??? Death had also buried their own life and cut off love from flowing through their young hearts. Or had it???
The implements presented each young camper, and my on staff daughter, were a clay jar and a hammer. The children, and my daughter, were reminded that the Bible speaks of all of us, mere humans, as God’s clay jars. No matter how weak we, humans, are, God has chosen us, frail clay jars, in which to store the treasures of His life and love. The hammer represented the hurt and anger (be it acknowledged or silent) stored within each attendee’s heart. And yes, this anger, in part, was against God, too; and not only directed at the world and one whose death felt like desertion and abandonment.
Instruction was to take hammer in hand and pound the outside of the jar with all the wrath boiling over inside their head, heart and soul. The young camper’s clay jars ended up cracked, split or fractured. My daughter’s ended up demolished!!!
Next, each mourner was told to glue the pieces of the jar back together. It was a simple task for the younger ones. My daughter’s attempt at restoration took hours.
In examining their clay jars glued back together, it was clear the more pieces needing to be restored, the less one’s clay vessel looked like the original jar; but this was a blessing not a reproach. For you see, all grieving hearts were wisely enlightened that the more cracks and holes in the jar representing themselves, the more God’s life and love could flow through them and reach others.
We all, no matter how young or old our birthdays mark us, are God’s clay jars. Be it mourning death or beaten up by any of life’s woes, our struggles dent, damage and nearly destroy the “us” symbolized in our very own clay jars. From this, it can be wondered, if when we are most bruised and battered, might not we also be God’s greatest vessel through whom the world can see His life and love flowing from our wounds? When we feel most defeated, weak and worthless, might not God be using us the most for shedding light on His strength and mercy. However, let us not forget, for God to flow through us, we must not let the clay jar of our being lie in splintered pieces. Our faith and our hope must re-glue the clay jar of our being by means of sticking with, and standing for, the epoxy of God’s promise. “Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be saved, for You are my praise.” Jeremiah 17:14 (ESV)
Uplifted in a Broken Down World 