Have you experienced a loss recently? Perhaps a death, a failed marriage, your dream job, a dear but troubled child walking away from the Lord…and you. Or maybe the loss occurred years ago, but your heart continues to ache.
Last weekend, our youngest daughter, Rebecca Ann, married a wonderful man, Luke Danek, in Buena Vista, Colorado. With the Rocky Mountains majestically painting the background in colors too rich to describe, I was elated that this day had finally come. And yet, there was a dissonance between the joy that I felt for Rebecca and the surprising sadness that had been building within me for several weeks prior. You see, our Rebecca Ann was named for my mother, Rebecca Ann Durden Brewer, who passed away four years ago to enter into the eternal presence of her Savior and Lord. Mama would have adored Luke. She would have “oohed and ahhed” over everything that was special to Rebecca about Luke - his thirst for adventure, his profession as a firefighter paramedic, his mustache. But she wasn’t there and my heart hurt.
The Bible gives voice to our pain. Particular psalms, one-third of them, by the way, provide a template for us to communicate our anguish and grief, our frustration and disappointment. Within the process of lament we discover a minor-key language for our suffering. Pastor and author, Mark Vroegop, in his book Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy describes lament as a practice in ”learning to live between the poles of a hard life and God’s goodness.”
Read Psalm 30
I love how the psalmist David describes living within those poles of a hard life and God’s goodness. He doesn’t turn from the harsh realities of being pursued by enemies or feelings of despair and insecurity. Instead, David voices all of it…to God, with God. It is in this dialogue that David experiences a nearness with the Lord, reminding him that he is not alone, that God has anointed him as king over Israel and His promises will be fulfilled.
Using David’s template, I forced myself to acknowledge all of the disappointment and grief that my sweet Mama wasn’t there for Rebecca’s big day. I cried, along with my dad and my daughters, and lamented the fact that she was missing. And just like David, God “turned my lament into dancing; He removed my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness, so that I could sing to Him and not be silent. Lord my God, I will praise You forever.” (Ps. 30:11-12, CSB)
Over the next few weeks, as I lead a small group through the spiritual practice of lament, I’ll write devotions each Tuesday and Friday. I’m praying that these “Looks at Lament” will encourage us all to bring our confusion, sadness, longing, disappointment, even anger surrounding our own personal losses to our Father God in a healthy and trusting manner. Join me, won’t you?
Blessings,
Gay B Brown