The news came on an otherwise cheerful morning. Having concluded my prayer and quiet time, I sat enjoying a few extra moments of peace before beginning my day. Bad news travels fast, and I would add, never comes by invitation.
After laboring through a difficult conversation with a loved one, a familiar weariness creeped into my soul. Prolonged suffering, whether sourced in chronic illness, financial hardship, relational pain or mental anguish, not only wearies us, but casts doubt on God’s goodness.
Experiencing various health crises both personally and with loved ones, the recent death of my mother and sister-in-law, over five years of estrangement from my two oldest children, as well as supporting my youngest daughter through a serious life situation, comprise a few harsh realities of my suffering.
Like Job, my initial reaction to most of these events was admirable and expressed trust in God. (Job 1:20-22) But as the season of suffering stretched into years, I questioned God’s goodness.
As soon as I found stability in one hard situation, another event took place shaking my confidence in God’s faithfulness. Prayers remained unanswered, and God’s presence felt non-existent.
Also, like Job, I had those well-intentioned friends with all the platitudes and no empathy, who fueled my doubt rather than absolving it. Stuck in an endless cycle of grief, the language of lament seemed my sole form of communication. Yet, within the psalms of lament I found my way back to hope.
An Invitation to Hope Through Lament
Raw and honest, besides pouring out the depths of grief in suffering, the lament psalms redirected my heart towards the truth of God’s goodness. I grasped the “both/and” of my harsh realities, that yes, life is hard, and even painful, but God is still good.
These psalms gave me language to express my deepest grief but also allowed me to wrestle with anger and doubt in God’s presence.
“Lord, how long will You forget me? Forever? How long will You hide Your face from me? How long will I store up anxious concerns within me, agony in my mind every day? How long will my enemy dominate me?”
“I am weary from my groaning; with my tears I dampen my pillow and drench my bed every night. My eyes are swollen from grief; they grow old because of all my enemies.”
Learning a healthy manner of lament helped me engage with God over my suffering. Along with an outlet for voicing my big emotions of grief and anger, I found hope-filled validation, knowing I was heard by God.
“I complain and groan morning, noon, and night, and He hears my voice.”
“The Lord has heard my plea for help; the Lord accepts my prayer.”
“In my alarm I had said, “I am cut off from Your sight.” But You heard the sound of my pleading when I cried to You for help.”
Each lament psalm spoke of the anguish of loss, betrayal, injustice and hopelessness. Yet each transitioned to focus on God’s goodness, whether from past remembrance of His faithfulness or future confidence in His promised action. Following this pattern through every lament psalm, I noticed each one ended in hope.
“I will sacrifice a freewill offering to You. I will praise Your name, Yahweh, because it is good. For He has delivered me from every trouble, and my eye has looked down on my enemies.”
Lament Moves Us from Doubt to Confidence in God’s Promises
Soon, I realized along with inviting me to lament and engage with Him over my suffering, God also invited me through the lament to gain confidence in His promises.
Through wrestling with doubt in His presence, I found my way into the unshakeable hope of His goodness. Often our experience within our suffering over time feels isolating, we feel distant from God and others. But while we find confidence in His promises never to leave us (Hebrews 13:5, Deuteronomy 31:6), we also become one with Him in the fellowship of His sufferings (Philippians 3:10)
“We are pressured in every way but not crushed; we are perplexed but not in despair; we are persecuted but not abandoned; we are struck down but not destroyed. We always carry the death of Jesus in our body, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body.”
The more I came to trust in God’s goodness, the more I began to see my own suffering in a new light. God’s promises became real and certain, providing the strength and comfort I so desperately needed. In addition to a greater knowledge of God’s goodness, moving from doubt to confident trust in God we learn:
Rather than doubting His good intentions, we can receive His compassionate help.
“For I, Yahweh your God, hold your right hand and say to you: Do not fear, I will help you.”
We are embraced by His unfailing love even in the hardest places.
“Though the mountains move and the hills shake, My love will not be removed from you and My covenant of peace will not be shaken,” says your compassionate Lord.”
We find tremendous hope in knowing God redeems our suffering for our good and the good of others as He conforms us to the image of Christ. (Romans 8:28)
“For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is going to be revealed to us.”
Through God’s invitation to meet Him in the lament psalms, He welcomed my wrestling with doubt, grief and anger, helping me understand that suffering was hard, but it was holy.
He confirmed His nearness to me and all those grappling with brokenness while revealing His goodness and unfailing love.
God never meant for us to suffer alone. When we isolate ourselves from God during seasons of suffering, we become blind to His goodness and lose hope. He desires instead, that we show up as our authentic selves, bringing our pain, doubts, fears and even bitterness to Him in genuine lament.
Our place of lament then becomes a refuge of hope in suffering where we come face to face with God’s goodness as our hearts embrace trust in His unfailing love.
“The Lord is good, a stronghold in the day of trouble; he knows those who take refuge in him.”
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I love this Donna, you spoke to me today. It’s taken a while but as I mature in Christ I’ve seen the things you talked about in myself. Lamenting but going straight to Him first. I always ask Jesus to take myself out of my head. It’s been 8 years since my oldest daughter disengaged herself from me. And it’s been 4 years since I saw my youngest daughter, though there’s the occasional text message. I mourned for a long time, but then something happened. I saw that as I go straight to Him and praise him anyway, my sadness became less. I figured they were His before they were mine so I gave them back to him. I was thinking about surrender the other day, about all the different things we can surrender to Him, I asked Him to search me to show me other things I need to surrender that I may not see on my surface. I surrender my girls to Him. It’s hard getting over my ” ya, but” let me help you. Then I have to chuckle to myself, like what am I going to do, my understanding stinks.
Sorry for being long winded.
Visiting today from Joanne’s.
{{Hugs}}
Paula! I so enjoyed your thoughtful response to my post. I love hearing other people’s stories of their walk with the Lord. I am truly sorry for your heartache over your girls, while no two circumstances are identical, having two prodigals of my own I do understand some of what you are feeling. But I love the way you have reframed and chosen to view this chapter in your life. It would be so easy to become bitter, but I believe that is one reason God invites us into lament, so the pain of our hearts becomes a cleansing, an easing of the woundedness. Surrendering our grief to Christ allows us to cling to the God of all comfort in hope remembering our story (and our children’s stories) are not over, because His redemptive hand still holds each of us.
Donna, I find myself humbled By our God who invites us to express our doubts and ask our questions of Him. He never wanted that we feel we can’t come to Him, or that we isolate ourselves from Him. As we come to Him > “Our place of lament then becomes a refuge of hope in suffering where we come face to face with God’s goodness as our hearts embrace trust in His unfailing love.” And that is the safest and most comforting place to be!
I agree, Joanne. For so long I felt like I had to handle my distress alone, that God was somehow too lofty for all the tears and wrestling, as if He had no time for my drama. But He is a good and loving Father who longs for us to come to Him in our tears, whether the matter is large or small. I am learning He delights in my coming to Him, even in lament.