Learning To Lament

PAUSE

As I enter prayer now, I pause to be still; to breathe slowly, to recenter my scattered senses upon the presence of God.

(pause)

I pray Psalm 5:1–2, repeating the words slowly, several times:

“Listen to my words, LORD, consider my lament. Hear my cry for help, my King and my God, for to you I pray.”

REFLECT

Bible: Today’s reading is an ancient prayer of lament from Psalm 89:46–49:

“How long, LORD? Will you hide yourself for ever? How long will your wrath burn like fire? Remember how fleeting is my life. For what futility you have created all humanity! Who can live and not see death, or who can escape the power of the grave? Lord, where is your former great love, which in your faithfulness you swore to David?”

Comment and book passage: Struggle and travail are important expressions of biblical spirituality.

Lamenting is more than a technique for venting emotion. It is one of the fruits of a deepening spiritual life that has learned to stand naked before God without shame or pretence . . . Honest lament can express a vibrant faith; one that has learned to embrace life’s hardships as well as its joy, and to lift everything—everything—to the Father in prayer.

ASK

Ask myself: It’s natural to ask God to help, heal, or intervene when things go wrong. It’s entirely understandable that my instinct when confronted with difficulties is to ask God to make them go away. But more than half the Psalms model something different, inviting me to lift laments to the Lord from the midst of the mess of my unresolved pain.

Ask the Lord: I take time now to express my sadness to the Lord, giving voice to the disappointment, frustration, and fear that I may rarely dare admit, even to myself.

YIELD

“Fix Me, Jesus,” an African American spiritual:

Oh yes, fix me, Jesus, fix me.
Fix me so that I can walk on
a little while longer.
Fix me so that I can pray on
just a little bit harder.
Fix me so that I can sing on
just a little bit louder.
Fix me so that I can go on
despite the pain,
the fear, the doubt, and yes, the anger.
I ask not that you take this cross from me,
only that you give me the strength
to continue carrying it onward ‘til my dying day.
Oh, fix me, Jesus, fix me.

Amen.