The Lost Language of Lament: Getting Honest with God
I believe in God’s goodness. I know that He works out pain for our good and His glory. I am so thankful for His sovereign control. But sometimes daily life is just hard.
There was a time that I did not know how to handle hard things. So I turned to drugs, alcohol, fitness, and even food. Those things were how I escaped my hard. I numbed my hard. And as a result, for a long time I walked around numb because I never truly faced my hard. Being numb felt better than being in pain.
For a season, that numbness even spread into my Christianity. It clothed itself in just showing up and wearing Sundays best each Sunday and Wednesday. I treated worship like a check list and then went about the rest of my week without opening my Bible and severely neglected prayer. I made sure I was not too emotional in worship, and kept painful things private. Sharing too much emotion and pain felt inappropriate. Christians were supposed to always be happy in my mind. And I didn’t want to come off like a “complainer” or “doubter." I also did not want to make people uncomfortable with my tears or sorrow.
Looking back now, I can see what was missing. It connected today when I was reading Psalm 77:7-9:
“Will the Lord spurn forever,
and never again be favorable?
Has his steadfast love forever ceased?
Are his promises at an end for all time?
Has God forgotten to be gracious?
As I read this I found myself wondering, "Does God forget about us? Does He forget to be gracious?"
And the answer is obviously no.
It wasn’t so much about God forgetting the Psalmist. It was more so, the Psalmist needing a reminder of the goodness of God. Because he was prone to wander in doubt.
The Psalmist laid out all of his doubt and struggles in the language of lament and then reminded himself of God's goodness. We see this in the next few verses:
"Then I said, “I will appeal to this, to the years of the right hand of the Most High.” I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your wonders of old. I will ponder all your work, and meditate on your mighty deeds" Psalm 77:10-11
This language is often a missing component in Churches today. We are uncomfortable with lamenting. We are uncomfortable with complaining or admitting our doubts to God. And we are often uncomfortable walking with those who openly do such things. We want (with good intentions) to offer quick words of comfort and to quickly fix any painful situation.
You know the familiar phrases we turn to:
“If God brings you to it, He’ll bring you through it.”
“Well, it could have been worse.”
“Everything happens for a reason.”
“At least you don’t have it as bad as so, and so…”
"We say these things because, somewhere along the way, we have lost the biblical language of lament. We have not discovered the beauty in sorrow, so we try to get out of pain as quickly as possible—and we expect others to do so as well. But life will let all of us down, and we need a way to talk about it—a way we have lost along the way" (Allen, 2017).
The thing is: trials are going to come. And we cannot survive on band-aid responses. We need a proper way to handle those trials and assist others through them.
So what is the solution? What if, instead of turning to those band-aid responses, we choose to lament with someone in their brokenness and encourage them to lament to God. What if we paused and prayed with them through it and spent time honoring their hurt before trying to dismiss it or rush them through it.
And what if we choose to honor the language of lament in our own lives when faced with doubt, fear, anxiety, etc?
If you are unfamiliar with the language of lament, let's spend a few moments exploring it.
I love the way this writer put it: “Lament is one of those words we don’t use very much today. It’s not a regular entry in our vocabulary, even with us church people. I was in my late twenties before I really even knew what this word meant, despite growing up in church and staying connected to a Christian community in my early adult years. Lament, is simply expressing honest emotions to God when life is not going as planned. Whether we’re hurt, frustrated, confused, betrayed, overwhelmed, sad, Lamenting is simply expressing honest emotions to God when life is not going as planned. Whether we’re hurt, frustrated, confused, betrayed, overwhelmed, sad, or disappointed, lament is the language God has given us to talk to Him right in the middle of life’s messes. It’s real talk with God when you’re hurting, when all you can do is cry out for His help. It’s a prayer that says, God, I’m hurting—will You meet me here? And as such, it is a prayer to which God always responds” (Allen, 2019).
There are so many examples of lamenting in the Bible we could spend time discussing. For one, the entire book of Lamentations. But let's take a deeper look at the example we saw in the beginning of this writing:
Psalm 77:1-20
“I cry aloud to God,
aloud to God, and he will hear me.
In the day of my trouble I seek the Lord;
in the night my hand is stretched out without wearying;
my soul refuses to be comforted.
When I remember God, I moan;
when I meditate, my spirit faints. Selah
You hold my eyelids open;
I am so troubled that I cannot speak.
I consider the days of old,
the years long ago.
I said, “Let me remember my song in the night;
let me meditate in my heart.”
Then my spirit made a diligent search:
“Will the Lord spurn forever,
and never again be favorable?
Has his steadfast love forever ceased?
Are his promises at an end for all time?
Has God forgotten to be gracious?
Has he in anger shut up his compassion?” Selah
Then I said, “I will appeal to this,
to the years of the right hand of the Most High.”
I will remember the deeds of the Lord;
yes, I will remember your wonders of old.
I will ponder all your work,
and meditate on your mighty deeds.
Your way, O God, is holy.
What god is great like our God?
You are the God who works wonders;
you have made known your might among the peoples.
You with your arm redeemed your people,
the children of Jacob and Joseph. Selah
When the waters saw you, O God,
when the waters saw you, they were afraid;
indeed, the deep trembled.
The clouds poured out water;
the skies gave forth thunder;
your arrows flashed on every side.
The crash of your thunder was in the whirlwind;
your lightnings lighted up the world;
the earth trembled and shook.
Your way was through the sea,
your path through the great waters;
yet your footprints were unseen.
You led your people like a flock
by the hand of Moses and Aaron.”
In this example, I want you to notice how this Psalm begins and how it transitions at the end.
The Psalmist begins with pouring out his frustrations (lamenting):
- My soul refuses to be comforted (vs 2)
- I am so troubled that I cannot speak (vs 4)
- Has His steadfast love forever ceased? (vs 8)
- Are His promises at an end for all time? (vs 8)
- Has God forgotten to be gracious? (vs 9)
- Has He in anger shut up his compassion? (vs 9)
And after his lament, after he gets it all out, he transitions by reminding himself of God’s goodness:
- Then I said, I will appeal to this (vs 10)
- I will remember the deeds of the Lord (vs 11)
- I will ponder all your work, and meditate on your mighty deeds (vs 12)
- What god is great like our God? (vs 13)
- You are the God who works wonders; you have made known your might among the peoples (vs 14)
He continues bringing into remembrance all the good that God has done in the past throughout the rest of the Psalm.
From this we can walk away with the understanding that lamenting is not about sitting around feeling sorry for ourselves and stewing in our woes. It is about acknowledging our struggles and laying them out with brutal honesty in front of a God who can handle them. It is about refusing to numb out the pain with cliché sayings and or putting on a front by wearing Sunday’s best.
I have seen this most beautifully demonstrated back home during our congregations yearly “lock in.” A lock in is an activity where the teens get to spend the night at the church building while participating in spiritually uplifting activities. There is a prayer session in the middle of the night when the girls are tired and their guards are down. They begin voicing out their requests for prayer and sharing their deepest struggles. As a result, it allows us to bear one and others burdens and properly pray for one another. I have felt so refreshed each time I have left one of those sessions. And I cannot help but wonder what the Church would look like if this was a more common practice.
If we are honest, this is uncomfortable for us. We are really good at acknowledging God’s goodness. But, we do not want to acknowledge our suffering or our internal doubts. We certainly do not want to complain to God. And we most definitely do not want to complain to our sisters in Christ. So we throw verses at ourselves like “rejoice always and give thanks in all circumstances” (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18).” And while I most certainly believe in the truth of those verses and for sure believe it is something we should be doing, I think it is so vital to acknowledge when we are hurting and give ourselves permission to lament first.
Lamenting is more than tears and sorrow. It turns to the Savior who is faithful to His promises and who promised to return to us. Lament expresses our longing for the day when “he will wipe away every tear from their eyes” (Rev. 21:4). As Christians, we believe in the goodness of God, and we know the plan of redemption: creation, fall, redemption, and restoration.
But in the meantime, as we long for the day we meet our Redeemer, we need to allow ourselves to lament.
Allowing yourself and others to lament gives others the opportunity to meet you where you are. When we don’t include the language of lament in our worship or fellowship, we often stay stuck. We stay at arms length with other believers and struggle in darkness alone. Or we numb out and try to be self-reliant. And as a result, we do not properly heal or demonstrate God's glory in the healing process.
What if we allowed ourselves the freedom to lament for a season? What if we allowed ourselves to lay out all our doubts, our fears, our struggles, and our frustrations before the Lord and each other. What would it look like if lamenting was not missing from our praying, singing, teaching, or counseling?
I think the Church would transform. I think it would transform us into the authentic, living body that Christ established. The united Body we are all craving to be part of.
In closing, I just want to remind you that lamenting is an expression of grief that God meets us in. Your mess is not too much for Him. And once you get it all out and then arm yourself with prayer, His Spirit, His inspired words, and His people, you will be reminded of His goodness, His truth, His comfort, and His sovereignty and you will experience the healing power of lamenting.
Yes, we are supposed to rejoice. But let us not forget the freeing power that comes from a season of lament.
Reference:
Allen, Esther Fleece. No More Faking Fine (p. 35). Zondervan. Kindle Edition.