Seasons Of Lament

Seasons of Lament

For everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven. . . . A time to cry and a time to laugh. A time to grieve and a time to dance.

Women I love, who love Jesus, have walked through impossibly hard things, through seasons of deep lament, and I’ve found myself being extraordinarily careful in my responses. Long ago, I stopped promising that everything was going to be okay. I stopped telling women that God wouldn’t give them more than they can handle. I stopped saying all the empty, clichéd encouragements about cancer, hard-to-parent children, and bone-crushing grief and disillusionment—things we are inclined to say when faced with the discomfort of not knowing what to say and wanting to smooth over the awkward moment.

I believe wholeheartedly in the goodness of God, in his authority over everything, and in his ability to work extraordinary and ordinary miracles. But I’ve also watched while God has seemingly stood by in the midst of crisis, with the brilliance of his handiwork made clear only years later. And sometimes we have no answers to our questions this side of heaven, and we must simply trust.

Instead of inadequate platitudes spoken with the best of intentions, I’ve learned to offer the precious gift of listening. Providing a quiet presence in which someone can wrestle out loud with God and simply sitting alongside them in that hard place is therapeutic. And lingering alongside them in lament without trying to fix things often results in their finding God’s peace in a hard place—which is far more useful than anything we can provide on our own.

Life is filled with times of jubilation and sorrow. We don’t get to opt out of the hard stuff, and in fact, God often does his deepest, most holy work through those hard seasons. Let us be women who are good friends during the times of weeping and grief.

— Julie

— Today’s Act of Friendship —

Who is in a season of lament? Invite that person into your home for coffee and do far more listening than talking.