Mud

I’ve been thinking about mud.

Yes.  Mud.

Lately I’ve been reminded of the grime and grit and dirt that is left from the past.  Leftovers from hurts and loss and betrayal.  The residue of pain.

And it occurs to me that no amount of sweeping or thinking or “letting go” will ever get rid of all the dust and dirt from the past.  It hasn’t worked so far.  There’s always some lurking in the dark corners waiting to drift back into view.

Always.

And then, overwhelmed, the tears come.

Suddenly there are drops and rivulets flowing.  Down into the dust and dirt and grime of memories and things better left unremembered.

Then, as it all runs together…..

there is mud.

Remember playing in the dirt when we were little?  It was really hard to do anything with the dirt alone, but if you added a little water…..

mud.

And all kinds of things could happen.

Things could be built.  The mud was cool and soothing on our hot bare feet. Frog houses were made and pies were “cooked.”

The versatility of mud is nothing new.  Long ago it was used for all kinds of things, including putting together a house.  In some cultures it still is today.  Mud is also used for beauty treatments.  Imagine that, beauty coming from mud.

And there’s even a story in the Good Book about a blind man being healed, given his sight, when a caring man named Jesus made mud and applied it to his eyes.  His vision became clear.

Mud.

The only difference between the residue of pains past–all that dirt and grime–and mud is our tears.  If we can stop holding it all in and be brave enough to let the tears flow, a beautiful transformation can occur.  All of that from the past can become something we can build on, that we can create something new from.  Beauty can be found in the midst of the brokenness.

And I’m guessing our perspective, our vision, our view on life might change for the better too.

It’s okay to cry.  Let the tears flow.  That’s how the healing begins.

Love and wishes for the healing powers of mud for all.