It was Sunday. I didn’t want to get up. My body felt heavy. The day before, my world had come crashing down. The tsunami had come and gone, but I was still standing in the midst of the debris in shock and despair. My breath was labored and my mind was cloudy. I could hardly speak. The consuming sadness sat like a dense fog in my soul. I wanted to pull the covers over my head, disappear from the world, and sleep for ages to escape my reality.
I summoned strength to get out of bed and get ready for church. My loves knew the routine and headed to the car. I’m sure my children noticed that something was awry, but they followed along as normal. We made it to church despite my distracted driving.
I sent them each to their classes and trudged toward the sanctuary. For the first time in my life, the thought of worshiping numbed me. I hid in the back of the room, sinking into the pew, hoping to become invisible among the hundreds of people who surrounded me.
Why was I here? I couldn’t sing the songs. I couldn’t comprehend the sermon. I didn’t want to look at or speak to anyone. My chest felt like a pit that was about to swallow me.
I needed to lament. Lament is a passionate expression of grief or sorrow. As followers of Jesus, we often don’t feel permission—from ourselves or from others—to lament. We tell ourselves that we should rejoice always and find joy in suffering. We think that anger or sadness are signs of weakness, sinful attitudes, or lack of faith. We hang onto trite answers like God will work all things for good, while our souls are still dying inside. Friends are afraid of our emotions and give tense smiles and false reassurances, creating distance.
Jesus told us, “In this world you will have trouble” (John 16:33). The psalmist poignantly describes that when we experience pain and loss in our lives, it feels like the earth is giving way and the mountains are falling into the heart of the sea (Ps. 46:2). Grief, anger, hurt, or loneliness can overwhelm us. We may desperately try to escape the full weight of our emotions. We ignore, pretend, distract, eat, drink, medicate, consume, exercise, work, or relate in an unhealthy attempt to push out of consciousness the pain we don’t want to face.
The Bible shows us a different model. Over one third of the Psalms are laments. David says in Ps. 55:4-5, “My heart is in anguish within me; the terrors of death have fallen on me. Fear and trembling have beset me.” Job lamented and said, “Why did I not perish at birth, and die as I came from the womb” (Job 3:11)?
The prophets likewise cry out to God. Jeremiah says, “Why is my pain unending and my wound grievous and incurable” (Jer. 15:18)? The entire book of Lamentations is an expression of poetic laments about the destruction of Jerusalem. Jesus Himself lamented as He looked toward the cross and said to His disciples, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death” (Mark 14:34), and then fell with His face to the ground and cried out, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from Me” (Matt. 26:39). On the cross, Jesus cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken Me” (Matt. 27:46).
WHY IT'S OKAY TO LAMENT
1. When we lament, we begin to heal.
When our pain remains trapped inside us, it begins to corrode our souls and damage our bodies. Our helplessness in the face of our circumstances and our inability to protect ourselves creates shame. The pain and the shame unite to overwhelm our equilibrium. Remembering and telling the truth about terrible events are prerequisites for healing. When we share our story and give testimony to our loss by acknowledging the truth of our lives, the supernatural process of healing can begin. When we speak the truth about our pain and shame, they begin to lose their powerful control on our hearts and minds.
2. When we lament, we declare that we are not alone.
When we are alone there is no need to give voice to our pain, but when someone is present, we have reason to speak the unbearable truth. Because our Father loves us and desires to know us, He wants us to share our pain with Him. He wants to be with us in our pain. God does not just see our pain, He wants to journey with us in our pain. Even though He is always close, we need to open our eyes to His presence and allow Him to wrap His arms around us. Psalm 46:1 reminds us that “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.” The comfort is we are not alone in the universe, and we do not have to carry our burdens by ourselves.
3. When we lament, God listens.
At times, we may not even be able to put words to our pain. We may only have groans and cries. Even in this, God hears and understands, because the Holy Spirit helps us in our weakness and intercedes on our behalf. There is power in having our stories heard, validated, and felt. We are made to be known, and being known involves having someone to hear and understand us. God offers this to us, and He desires to be our primary support. He wants to know about our experience. He wants to hear us express our hearts and our deepest emotions. It brings joy to His heart when we share these with Him.
4. When we lament, God holds our pain.
The psalms model for us that it is acceptable to pour out our hearts of pain to God. David, a man after God’s own heart, expressed every raw emotion to God. God already knows our pain, our struggles, our doubts, our anger, and our desires for justice. When we express our pain and grief to God, He is able to contain it. It doesn’t overwhelm Him. It doesn’t hurt Him. It doesn’t offend Him. It doesn’t surprise Him. He doesn’t blame us. He doesn’t judge us. He doesn’t hold it against us. God can handle our emotions, because He is an emotional God and has experienced the full range of emotions Himself.
5. When we lament, God suffers with us.
Jesus is the suffering servant. He is a Man of Sorrows who is familiar with our pain. In fact, our suffering is part of His suffering on the cross. He climbs down into our pit of despair and sits with us. As Hebrews says, He empathizes with us. Not only does God participate in our suffering, but we also join in His pain over the brokenness of all creation. God also laments because individuals, relationships, and the whole world are broken.
6. When we lament, we can join together in community.
While we need to give ourselves permission to lament with God, we have an equal need to lament with others. After all, we all desire to be seen and for others to feel our pain. Author Parker Palmer says, “The human soul doesn’t want to be advised or fixed or saved. It simply wants to be witnessed—to be seen, heard, and companioned exactly as it is.” Unfortunately, many of our churches today provide few venues where lament is acceptable, but the church must be a place where we can bear witness to one another’s pain. When we share our pain and suffering with others, we agree together that, this world is not as it should be, that there is pervasive brokenness throughout all creation, and we all are groaning in anticipation for the healing of the world.
7. When we lament, we find hope.
In many of the psalms of lament, we see that lament eventually turns into praise. In Psalm 7:17 we read, “I will give thanks to the LORD because of his righteousness; I will sing the praises of the name of the Lord Most High.” As we lament, God often speaks truth to us in His quiet whisper. He reminds us of His goodness and His power. He lifts us out of the pit and sets us on firm ground (Ps. 40:2). In the depths of our despair, we can cling to the promises of God and find hope.
8. When we lament, we are standing on holy ground.
In our pain and vulnerability, we have the opportunity to connect to God in new and deeper ways. This is why lament in times of darkness is transformative. When we open up our pain to God, we open up a space for God to enter in. And this is exactly what we need—what I need.
