What happens when we face grief head-on instead of shying away from it?; Restorative Justice, Christianity, and Birthwork

Restorative justice, to me, is more than just an academic concept, a form of parallel justice, or a legal framework. It feels like something I live, breathe, and struggle to understand. It's a way of being that mirrors the heart of Jesus, whose teachings have pierced through the harsh edges of my life, calling me to see things differently. 
To forgive. To heal. To restore. 
This is a practice that requires much of you your humility, your vulnerability, your willingness to meet pain head-on and still choose mercy. But, maybe, that’s exactly what we need: a constant reminder to look beyond retribution and to embrace the possibility of transformation individually and collectively.

One of the things that strikes me most about Jesus' life and ministry is his radical forgiveness. When Jesus speaks of forgiveness in the Gospels seventy-seven times, not just seven, in Matthew 18 it’s not some idealized concept; it requires vulnerability and resiliency. It goes against everything the world seems to stand for. The world tells us to demand justice, to exact revenge. But Jesus calls us to do something altogether different: he calls us to forgive without counting the cost, to extend grace when I’d rather hold onto my hurt. And, for me, this isn't just a nice sentiment; it's a lifeline. I often wrestle with my own grudges, and I know the grip they have on me. But when I try to forgive, when I choose it, even in the smallest moments, I feel myself being freed from the bitterness that weighs so heavily on my soul. It is why my life has felt so peaceful recently. I have always been spiritual and felt divinely guided, but this feels different. Forgiveness isn't just for the offender it’s for me. It's a release.

But it’s not just about forgiveness; it’s about healing, too. Jesus didn’t go around condemning people to punishment. He healed them. And in that healing, he was restoring the very thing that had been broken physically, emotionally, spiritually. One of the most powerful examples of this is the woman caught in adultery. The people around her were quick to judge, eager to see her punished and cast aside, condemning her to a life of shame. But Jesus didn’t join in their judgment. He saw her not as a sinner to be scorned, but as a person in need of grace and transformation. He didn’t give her what society thought she deserved he gave her a chance: a chance to be restored, a chance to start anew. This is something that comes up in the work I do now. With such a strong focus on advocacy for women, gender-based violence particularly relating to sex work comes up in conversation.  For some, this may feel like an empowering choice, but for others, it is a place they are trapped in due to cycles of trauma from before they were even conceived. Restorative Justice is not about holding someone to their past, especially when there are so many factors at play keeping people trapped in painful trauma responses. It’s about healing, about restoring relationships and helping people rise beyond the hurt and judgment they’ve faced. There’s something so raw and powerful about this: to see someone not for the mistakes they’ve made but for the person they could become. 

And then there’s the power of community. Jesus was a master of it of loving and being loved in community, of recognizing that no one can truly heal alone. He didn’t shy away from the outcasts, the ones society rejected. In fact, he sought them out. The tax collectors, the prostitutes, the lepers they were his people. He ate with them, loved them, and in doing so, he told them they were worthy of belonging. I think about that a lot how we, too, are called to reach beyond ourselves, to build community where healing happens. It’s messy. It’s uncomfortable. And it’s absolutely necessary. In my own life, I’ve learned that true healing only happens when we lean into each other, when we’re willing to engage in those hard, awkward, painful conversations, the ones that don’t come easy. But those are the moments when we make space for the grace we all desperately need. We are not meant to live in isolation. God gives us gifts, not for us to hoard them, but to share them. We are meant to help each other carry our burdens.

When I think about restorative justice and Jesus, I’m reminded of one essential truth: healing is not about punishment. It’s not about retribution. It’s about breaking cycles of harm and offering something new. It’s not easy. Jesus didn’t shy away from pain or suffering he entered into it. And that’s exactly what restorative justice does. It enters into the mess, acknowledging the hurt, owning the brokenness, but always with the hope of redemption. And, my God, isn’t that what we need more of in the world? Not condemnation. Not shunning. But a space for people to be fully seen, to take accountability, to change, and to be welcomed back into the fold. What happens when we face grief head-on instead of shying away from it?

Jesus didn’t come to condemn; he came to restore. He didn’t come to judge; he came to heal. And I think about how often I fall short of this in my own life. How often I want to judge, to hold onto my hurt, to demand retribution. But Jesus calls me to something greater. He calls me to something far more difficult to love, to forgive, to heal, and it honestly feels more aligned with who I am. God gave me the gift of a big emotional heart (feels like a curse sometimes, but I choose to view it as a gift) and the ability to heal others through my work in advocacy, writing, and birthwork. As a doula, I’ve seen firsthand how powerful it can be to hold space for someone’s healing journey especially for those who’ve experienced trauma. The deep trust that builds between a doula and a birthing person is often the key to a transformative experience. In my work, I’ve witnessed how important it is to support individuals not just through physical birth, but through their emotional healing as well. For those who’ve faced sexual trauma or abuse, providing a trauma-informed, compassionate environment is critical. I’ve seen how these small but powerful acts of care can create a space where true healing begins. 

In my journey, I’ve come to understand that many of the issues we face especially in the realms of justice, healthcare, and community are deeply intertwined with generational trauma and systemic inequalities. It’s easy to look at an individual and place the blame solely on them when harm occurs, but I’ve learned that this approach misses the bigger picture. Harm is often not just a product of one person’s actions; it’s a reflection of systems that have been in place for generations, systems that perpetuate cycles of trauma, oppression, and injustice. Whether it’s in maternal healthcare, criminal justice, or other areas of life, we cannot ignore the historical and structural factors that shape the experiences of marginalized communities.

This realization has been central to my work in restorative justice and birthwork. When we only focus on the individual who caused harm, we fail to address the root causes that allow harm to happen in the first place. For example, in my doula work, I’ve seen how racial disparities in healthcare are not just the result of isolated incidents, but part of a broader pattern of systemic neglect and abuse, particularly for birthing people of color. The trauma these individuals carry is not just their own; it’s inherited and passed down through generations of oppression. This generational trauma shapes their experiences of healthcare, their trust in the system, and their access to resources.

True healing, then, requires a shift from an individualistic approach to one that examines and challenges the larger systems at play. We need to ask the hard questions about why these cycles persist and what it will take to break them. In restorative justice, we seek to address the harm in a way that acknowledges the broader context, including the social, economic, and historical forces that contribute to the situation. Only by addressing the systems as a whole by recognizing the patterns of harm and dismantling the structures that perpetuate them can we hope to create lasting, meaningful change. 

An essential aspect of creating meaningful healing measures is the involvement of community members themselves particularly those who have experienced harm or oppression. The lived experience of those directly impacted by systemic injustice provides invaluable insight into the most effective ways to address harm and promote healing. No one knows better what is needed than the people who have walked through the very systems that perpetuate the harm.

In my work, particularly in the realm of restorative justice and birthwork, I’ve learned that the healing process cannot be dictated by those outside the community. It must come from within. This means creating space for individuals to share their experiences, define their own needs, and contribute to the design of healing practices. For instance, in birth justice, the experiences of marginalized birthing individuals especially those from Black, Indigenous, and other communities of color must be at the center of any reform. These individuals often carry cultural practices, wisdom, and resilience that have helped them survive and navigate systems designed to harm them. Honoring these practices, involving community members in the conversation, and incorporating their knowledge into healing measures ensures that the solutions are not only grounded in the reality of their experiences but also respectful of their cultural heritage and strengths.

By empowering communities to be leaders in their own healing, we create a more inclusive and just approach to restorative practices. When we center the voices of those most affected, we build solutions that are not only compassionate and relevant but also sustainable, because they are rooted in the very communities that need them most. 

What happens when we look grief in the eye the way Jesus would want us to? What happens when we consider all people, even the ones that do not consider us?