Trust and Lament: Finding God in Sorrow and Worship

TRUST AND LAMENT

My times are in your hands … Let your face shine on your servant; save me in your unfailing love. (Psalm 31:15, 16)

Last March, I spent my birthday with a group of women at a retreat center in northern Ohio—a beautiful, former girls’ school turned nunnery turned sanctuary. There, our hearts were primed to hear God’s voice. Each morning, I led the women in Lectio Divina. We walked a prayer labyrinth on the property and prayed under birdsong mingled with the voices of tall, limber pines singing in the wind. When the time came to give my message, I was changed. I felt close to these women—safe—and God kept nudging me to give a different message than the one I’d prepared. I felt the urge to share more deeply and be vulnerable. So I did.

IN THE CONTEXT OF SCRIPTURE, I SHARED MY STORY

In the context of Scripture, I shared the story of a difficult experience my family had just been through—something that had caused great pain that still touched us in many ways. As I was speaking the words out loud, something so surprising happened. I felt a sob well up in my throat, and there was nothing I could do to suppress it. I had never told this story publicly, and my emotions took me off guard, but when that sob escaped, something beautiful happened. Every eye turned unblinkingly on me. The tears had captured their attention. After all, this is something they all understood so well: sorrow, grief, the deep soul disappointment that life sometimes hands us. I looked at the faces of the women I spoke to and saw only love.

After a time of worship, as we clustered in small groups sipping coffee and nibbling sweets, woman after woman approached me. In hushed tones, they shared similar stories of darkness, despair, and pain. With few exceptions, these women told me how they kept their pain a secret, held tightly to their hearts, locked behind cut-flower words and plastered-on smiles only gum-deep.

My heart broke as I listened, and the realization sank into me: we do not feel safe sharing our pain, our brokenness, and our humanity in our churches. We do not have a place in our worship services to give voice to lament.

Lament cuts through insincerity, unveils pretense, and leads to trust and wonder because true worship involves bringing every aspect of our lives before God, not ignoring the hard stuff of life but worshipping amid our struggles.

Be merciful to me, O LORD, for I am in distress; my eyes grow weak with sorrow, my soul and my body with grief. (Psalm 31:9)

JESUS KNEW THE POWER OF LAMENT

Jesus knew the power of lament. He knew the power of sharing sorrow publicly. To lament together is to allow the sorrows and joys of my brothers and sisters to be mine and mine to be theirs. This requires me to stay awake to sorrow, the struggle of my pain, and the questions of God. We can only lament when we fully trust, for lament opens the heart to wrestle with God and hold onto him through the pain, allowing ourselves to be touched by His hand.

If Jesus did not shy away from lament, why should we?

PRAYER

Dear Jesus, we often hide our pain, yet You modeled lament for us by openly sharing Your sorrow. Help us find safe places to share our stories with others—and show us how to lovingly carry each other’s burdens. May we always know that we can share them with You and that You understand. In Jesus’ name, amen.

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION

1. What is holding you back from sharing your story with others?
2. If someone has shared their vulnerable story with you, how did it make you feel?
3. What is the story you’re keeping tucked deep down inside? Maybe the first brave step is to write it down.