The grace of lament that ultimately gets you through grief

Have you ever thought to yourself, “I know there’s something more to life; a secret I’m not yet living”?  There’s a part of us that’s mystified by truth we don’t yet have.

Somehow, in our heart of hearts, often deeper than we’re consciously aware, we search and clamour and explore, we hold out hope, we wonder why, the potential of life ever sitting slightly beyond us, on the horizon, always just out of our grasp.

God, Ecclesiastes 3:11 says, “has set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.”  Yet, grief invites lament, and lament unveils these recondite mysteries.

Curiosity for extracting the enigmas of life is 
never more piqued than when we suffer.

When we suffer, like when our tongue clings to the roof of our mouths, or we soak our bed in tears, or we live estranged to a life we long to return to but can’t, we’re desperate to touch comfort.

Jesus tells us in Matthew 5:4 that, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”  The desperation we experience for having left our comfort zone forces us into a mode of growth that further entreats comfort.  Inevitably we find it.  By faith alone.

Suffering gives us rectitude and it also quashes our pride:

“The language of lament is the language of humility.”
― Soong-Chan Rah, Prophetic Lament: A Call for Justice in Troubled Times

Humility is a truly great and wise strength that comes into its own in absolute weakness.  People aren’t usually humble unless they’ve been humbled, so we can see how being in a place of lament brings us into a place of connection with God.

“You can lament over what could have been, or you can do something bold; use that energy to create an enviable future.  It is up to you.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Being Bold: Quotes, Poetry, & Motivations for Every Day of the Year

No matter what our past is, we can move forward in complete neglect of it and make a new start.  It’s clear that the past does not hold us back on any account.  Regret has a great impact on so many of our lives, but just as easily we can walk forward with our life making the best of what is.

Grief unveils regret.  And when regret gets too large and unbearable, we’re cajoled to look for a different way, so we strive forward.  Then we transcend regret.

“When brokenness becomes your life, lament helps you turn to God.  It lifts your head and turns your tear-filled eyes toward the only hope you have: God’s grace.”
― Mark Vroegop, Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy: Discovering the Grace of Lament

God’s grace is perennially there, yet we only truly discover it when we need it, usually in suffering and the lament that attempts to make sense of the truth we find ourselves in.  The grace of God is truly a very misunderstood thing.  Not only is it a source of cosmic forgiveness, it’s also a hidden power for strength to be found in our most vulnerable weakness.  And it’s not a ‘strong’ strength, but an altogether different ‘power’, a strength you receive when you’re honestly weak.

“Lament will not allow us to revert to easy answers.  There is no triumphalistic and exceptionalistic narrative of the American church that can cover up justice.  There are no easy answers to unabated suffering.  Lament continues.”
― Soong-Chan Rah, Prophetic Lament: A Call for Justice in Troubled Times

Precisely why lament works, answers are hardly the point.  The true answer is beyond answers that interest the human mind.  The heart of lament is enthralled in being, and in being is the victory, because in being we cannot be overcome.  Lament will sit faithfully with us as we face the pain of the truth that we’re in, yet with God:

“Prayerful lament is better than silence.  However, I’ve found that many people are afraid of lament.  They find it too honest, too open, or too risky.  But there’s something far worse: silent despair.  Giving God the silent treatment is the ultimate manifestation of unbelief.  Despair lives under the hopeless resignation that God doesn’t care, he doesn’t hear, and nothing is ever going to change.  People who believe this stop praying, they give up.  This silence is a soul killer.”
― Mark Vroegop, Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy: Discovering the Grace of Lament

Better than the inactivity of a silence which is void of God, lament is the practice of true faith because it carries the struggle to the doorstep of God.  “Too honest, too open, or too risky.”  Of course!  Without faith that expects God to show up, we stand adrift from the only thing that can help us: God’s Presence.  The risk is the faith.  Honesty is a risk, so is openness.  There is nothing to lose in honest lament.  But only when we believe God is already there with us in it, and God is.

Here to finish is the truth of life.  

“I didn’t want normal until I didn’t have it anymore.”
― Maggie Stiefvater, Lament: The Faerie Queen’s Deception

Normal can seem lamentable until normal is ripped from our grasp.  Yet, lament potentially teaches us to be grateful for what we have.  From loss there’s the possibility that we might begin to be grateful for the smallest things that remain, and indeed from the surprising things that come into our possession from mourning.  From grief there is an eventual thankfulness, that is forged in the faith it takes to keep the faith.