I am Waiting for the Shroud to be Lifted

Something was wrapped over them. A shroud. But there is a waiting, a being found, and a rich feast still to come.

Grief, depression and loss can settle over a life like a heavy shroud. In Isaiah 25, God promises to destroy the shroud cast over all peoples, wipe away every tear, and prepare a feast. Until that day, we wait, and we do not wait alone.

In this post

• When it feels like a shroud is over you
• What Isaiah 25 says about the shroud
• Four words of hope under the shroud
• Waiting together in grief
• Reflect and practise

When it feels like a shroud is over you

There was something draped over them, or at least that is what it felt like. A shroud.

What’s a shroud? It’s something that envelops or obscures. A shroud of mist can cover the landscape. A shroud is also the cloth a dead person is wrapped in for burial.

Sometimes, as I listen to people, it feels like there is something draped over them. My calling is to lift the shroud, look underneath, and bring some Spirit resuscitation.

We could call that shroud depression, hopelessness, grief, loss or despair.

We could also call it a grounded awareness of living in a broken world. A world where broken-world decisions keep being made by people like me and you. Decisions and choices that aren’t always in line with God’s kingdom come.

So I sit, listen, grieve and groan.

I pray for a presence of comfort to fill the weary soul. That the shroud wouldn’t suffocate.

I also point people to comfort in truth they can easily digest. Simple things like …

I am held
I am known
I am loved

Perhaps I could add a fourth.

I am waiting.

What Isaiah 25 says about the shroud

Most mornings I start my day by listening to scripture being read to me. This morning’s reading was Isaiah 25:6-9, and I’d encourage you to listen to the Isaiah 25:6-9 lectio reading. Take some time for scripture to form and fill you.

Four words of hope under the shroud

As I sank into this reading, words of hope sneaked up and under my shroud.

1. All

All peoples, all nations, all death, all tears, all faces, all disgrace. There is a completeness to God’s actions, and you-all are included.

2. A feast

A rich feast is being prepared. A banquet, a celebration, a party that even dark-closet introverts will want to dance in.

3. Tears wiped away

God will wipe away tears, and any fig-leaf hiding and disgrace we carry. Hands go down, nakedness exposed, everything seen and welcomed by God’s embrace. If your tears won’t come at all, I’ve written about grief, numbness and why you can’t cry.

4. Hopeful waiting

At the moment, I am shrouded. But the shroud is not the end of the story.

Do you remember the game of hide and seek?

At an advanced stage, a child will go to extreme lengths to hide from those seeking them. Perhaps, in their extreme measures, they never want to be found. A very adult experience.

But a very little child may simply throw a blanket over themselves and think that if they can’t see others, then others can’t see them.

Of course, others can still see the shape and form of the person they are looking for.

So there is a game of waiting and pretence.

Then giggling erupts out of its constraints. Discovery, joy, let’s go have a party. ‘I can see you’ bounces into ‘I love you, I know you, I hold you, I cherish you.’

Waiting together in grief

There is a corporateness to our waiting. It is both an individual experience and a community of longing.

I sit with you, and you sit with me, a little like sitting shiva with those who grieve. We don’t let the shroud suffocate the hope out of us. There are good reasons why waiting patiently is good for you, even when it hurts.

We weep together at our shared loss. We share tasting samples, like the ones you get in the supermarket, of some rich heavenly food.

We wait, we point, and we wipe each other’s tears. We enter each other’s disgrace and cover it with grace, which is what it looks like to practise sitting with shame and to answer the call to endure.

Psalm 139: even in darkness you are not hidden

Psalm 139 comforts us.

Can I peek under your shroud?

If the shroud ever feels like it is suffocating you, or you have thoughts of ending your life, please reach out today to someone you trust or your GP. In New Zealand you can call or text 1737 any time.

Reflect and practise

Quotes to consider

• One of the deepest sources of my own loneliness is that so few people seem to have much of an interest in exploring my interior world. Larry Crabb, SoulCare
• Redeemed pain is more impressive to me than removed pain. Philip Yancey
• A vision we give to others of who and what they could become has power when it echoes what the spirit has already spoken into their souls. Larry Crabb, Connecting
• Strength is not the absence of vulnerability. Strength is knowing what your weaknesses are and working with them. Terrence Real
• Opening up your soul to someone, letting them into your spirit, thoughts, fears, future, hopes, dreams… that is being naked. Rob Bell

Questions to answer

1. Have you talked with someone and felt there was a covering over them, a layer inhibiting entry? What was your first response? Why that?
2. What is waiting like for you?
3. How would it be for you to have someone enter your ‘disgrace’ and cover it with grace?

Formation exercise

Take the sheet off your bed and drape it over yourself. Under that shroud, what would it be like to have someone sneak in underneath, bring some delicious party food and share it with you? Journal about this, then send me a note about what you noticed.

Further reading

• Why Do I Feel So Broken Inside? The Birth Pangs of Hope — Feeling broken inside? Discover the birth pangs metaphor from Romans 8 and find hope in the sacred waiting between now and not yet.
  
• Why Can’t I Cry? Grief, Numbness and God’s Comfort — Can’t cry after a loss? Explore grief, numbness and the God who wipes away tears, and why you don’t wait alone.
  
• Who Will Wipe Away My Tears? Divine Comfort in Our Brokenness — Discover comfort in your pain. Explore how God meets us in our tears with gentleness, making all things new through divine compassion.
  
• The Slow Dance of Grief: Passing Through What Was — Grief is the full-body experience of processing what was. Explore how to navigate loss, the stages of grief, and finding hope in God.
  
• Embracing Emotional Pain and Finding the Healing Light of Christ — Discover how embracing emotional pain opens the door to Christ’s light. Move from hiding suffering to experiencing a healing presence.
  
• I Long for You: Finding a Place of Rest in the Darkest Hour — Is God far away? Explore a poetic dialogue of longing and find the “place of rest” where God is waiting to pull you into His ancient truth.
  

About the author

Barry Pearman has spent almost 30 years as a mental health support worker, community chaplain, and pastor, and has walked through depression himself. His training includes SoulCare Foundations under Dr Larry Crabb, a Bachelor of Applied Theology, spiritual direction training, and certificates in CBT interventions, pastoral therapy, and integrated mental health care. Turning the Page offers a grace-filled path to mental wholeness through faith and hope.

Photo by Filip Baotić on Unsplash