Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy E-Book

Mark Vroegop

• Herausgeber: Crossway
• Kategorie: Religion und Spiritualität
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 282

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

Lament is how you live between the poles of a hard life and trusting God's goodness. Lament is how we bring our sorrow to God—but it is a neglected dimension of the Christian life for many Christians today. We need to recover the practice of honest spiritual struggle that gives us permission to vocalize our pain and wrestle with our sorrow. Lament avoids trite answers and quick solutions, progressively moving us toward deeper worship and trust. Exploring how the Bible—through the psalms of lament and the book of Lamentations—gives voice to our pain, this book invites us to grieve, struggle, and tap into the rich reservoir of grace and mercy God offers in the darkest moments of our lives.

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“I had never read a book like this before. If you are hurting or trying to help someone who is, or if you are attempting to lead your church to recover and experience what God’s Word teaches about lament, this is a book you will want to read.”

Daniel L. Akin, President, Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary

“Born in a father’s grief and marked with a pastor’s wisdom, Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy teaches each of us and the church how to pray along the journey of loss and despair. Vroegop presents biblical guidelines for bringing honest complaint and bold petition before God and for choosing to steadfastly trust in the One whose mercies never end.”

M. Daniel Carroll R., Blanchard Professor of Old Testament, Wheaton College

“Too often Christians feel the pressure to pretend the gospel diminishes pain, while others lament their pain void of biblical truth and hope. I have longed for years for a book to demonstrate a balance on this issue. Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy captures beautifully the unique and powerful grace of the gospel in Christian lament. The book is well written, winsome, and refreshingly transparent. I wept as I read it.”

Brian Croft, Senior Pastor, Auburndale Baptist Church, Louisville; Founder, Practical Shepherding; Senior Fellow, Church Revitalization, The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary

“Lament is the language of exiles and aliens, of the suffering and downcast. But it is also the language of a people who know how the story ends. This book teaches us that pouring out our complaint to God is an act of faith and hope. In a world where sorrow has been politicized and death hidden away, let Mark Vroegop teach you the Christian language of lament that gives voice to our sadness and our desperate need for God.”

Abigail Dodds, author, (A)Typical Woman: Free, Whole, and Called in Christ

“Until Christ returns or calls us home, lament will be our God-given language for finding faith to endure in a fallen world. This book will help the church become more fluent in the language of lament and thus more conversant with the God who has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows.”

Collin Hansen, Editorial Director, The Gospel Coalition; coauthor, A God-Sized Vision: Revival Stories That Stretch and Stir

“When our lives encounter inevitable pain, we need perspective and power to survive and thrive through the weight of the burden. Vroegop masterfully converges his own testimony of anguish with rich insight into the nature and promises of our God, who weeps, grieves, and cares deeply for his children. This book will serve as a toolbox and treasure to your soul.”

Daniel Henderson, President, Strategic Renewal International; author, Transforming Prayer and Old Paths, New Power

“This book gives real hope to those in deep valleys. Vroegop challenges us to speak up through tears and tell God what hurts in a raw and real way that results in even deeper reverence. I recommend this book to everyone who wants to hope against hope in a God who listens even when we complain, who answers even when we doubt.”

Garrett Higbee, Director of Pastoral Care, Great Commission Collective

“Lament is not just tears or pain in our own soul; lament is inviting Christ to come alongside our casket of loss. Lament is not just a prayer; it is a prayer expressing our pain in our fallen world. Lament does not stop at pain; through Christ’s comforting presence, lament enriches our trust in our Father of compassion. Anyone who wants to learn biblically and experientially how to candidly call out to our comforting Father would benefit greatly from this book.”

Robert W. Kellemen, Vice President of Strategic Development and Academic Dean, Faith Bible Seminary; author, God’s Healing for Life’s Losses and Grief: Walking with Jesus

“Profound. Tender. Strengthening. Crucial. Wise. This book helped me see something that’s basic to Christianity that I hadn’t fully grasped as basic. I began rereading it with my wife before finishing it the first time. Every pastor, counselor—and indeed, every Christian—should read it.”

Jonathan Leeman, Editorial Director, 9Marks; author, The Rule of Love

“Mark Vroegop reminds us that grief and sorrow are not the denial of God’s presence or a lack of faith in God’s sovereign care. God calls us to lament, to give expression to our pain and sorrow, which in turn leads to authentic hope, healing, and health. Vroegop shepherds our hearts and shows us the path to discovering ‘deep mercy in dark clouds.’ This book is a hope-filled treasure!”

Crawford W. Loritts Jr., Senior Pastor, Fellowship Bible Church, Roswell, Georgia; author, Unshaken; Host, Living a Legacy

“This book shouts to us from the Psalms and Lamentations: It’s okay to cry, to grieve, to wonder why, and to come to God with our doubts and fears. Our heavenly Father can handle it. And in the end, he shows us grace and mercy. This book is a wonderful antidote to the feel-good, happy, and superficial platitudes of so much of modern evangelicalism.”

Erwin W. Lutzer, Pastor Emeritus, The Moody Church, Chicago

“There were seasons in my life when I really needed this book but did not have it. So I have read it now with both delight and regret: delight that it is finally here and regret that it was not here sooner. I have found myself saying, ‘I wish I had known that,’ or ‘I wish I had done that.’ The sooner you read this book, the less you will say those things to yourself!”

Jason C. Meyer, Pastor for Preaching and Vision, Bethlehem Baptist Church, Minneapolis

“Mark Vroegop winsomely introduces us to the lost art of lament. From the outside, the world of lament looks dark and foreboding, but as you enter it, light will shine on your soul in startling ways.”

Paul E. Miller, Executive Director, seeJesus; author, A Praying Life and J-Curve

“Mark Vroegop has written a book that is a gift to the church—both to the one suffering and to the one who wants to help the sufferer. Through his own personal loss and practice of lament, he helpfully guides us in lament, showing us that to lament is Christian and to lament is to find hope even in the greatest pain.”

Courtney Reissig, author, Glory in the Ordinary

“Vroegop’s message is forged out of his personal journey, which validates the high value of healing through lament. But more importantly, he takes us to key passages of Scripture that assure us that God welcomes our agonizing cries of complaint as a step toward his grace and strength in our time of need.”

Joseph M. Stowell, President, Cornerstone University; author, The Upside of Down and Redefining Leadership

“This book is born out of personal tragedy and loss. It is a gold mine of help for those who have suffered deep wounds from loss. Mark Vroegop masterfully blends his personal life, pastoral experience, and biblical exposition into a volume that shows how God’s grace in lament and the cry of the heart in prayer teach you to trust God’s purposes.”

John D. Street, Chair, Graduate Department in Biblical Counseling, The Master’s University and Seminary; President, Association of Certified Biblical Counselors

“If you allow it, this book will draw tears, unveil smiles, heal old wounds, increase your biblical understanding, and bring peace. Mark Vroegop gracefully points the way to the biblical light of mercy and hope amid misery and despair. Your pain can become a platform for helping others rather than a pit of self-pity, and this book will help you arrive at that better destination.”

Thomas White, President, Cedarville University

“I am intensely grateful for Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy and would place it among the most important and influential books I’ve read in the past few years. If you are going through hard times, this book may provide more insight and comfort than any other book except for the Bible. If you are in ministry, please allow Vroegop to help you discover how ‘the grace of lament’ can serve the many hurting people in your congregation.”

Donald S. Whitney, Professor of Biblical Spirituality and Associate Dean, The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary; author, Spiritual Disciplines for the Christian Life and Praying the Bible

“God has lovingly immersed one of his outstanding Bible expositors into the depths of human sorrow so that the rest of us can learn from him the important grace of lament. Through the tragic loss of his daughter, Mark has reflected deeply, studied the Bible carefully, and written beautifully to help us all walk more closely with our Savior.”

Sandy Willson, Interim Senior Pastor, Covenant Presbyterian Church, Birmingham, Alabama

“I have watched as Mark Vroegop and his wife have navigated the difficult journey of loss, and I have witnessed in their lives the sweet fruit of godly lament. Vroegop provides a hope-filled guide to experiencing the mercy of God in the darkest nights, through the vital, healing grace of lament.”

Nancy DeMoss Wolgemuth, author, Adorned; Teacher and Host, Revive Our Hearts

Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy

Discovering the Grace of Lament

Mark Vroegop

Foreword by Joni Eareckson Tada

Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy: Discovering the Grace of Lament

Copyright © 2019 by Mark Vroegop

Published by Crossway1300 Crescent StreetWheaton, Illinois 60187

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher, except as provided for by USA copyright law. Crossway® is a registered trademark in the United States of America.

Published in association with the literary agency of Wolgemuth & Associates, Inc.

Cover design: Jeff Miller, Faceout Studios

First printing 2019

Printed in the United States of America

Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture quotations are from the ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture references marked NLT are from The Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, IL, 60189. All rights reserved.

All emphases in Scripture quotations have been added by the author.

Trade paperback ISBN: 978-1-4335-6148-1 ePub ISBN: 978-1-4335-6151-1 PDF ISBN: 978-1-4335-6149-8 Mobipocket ISBN: 978-1-4335-6150-4

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Vroegop, Mark, 1971– author.

Title: Dark clouds, deep mercy: discovering the grace of lament / Mark Vroegop; foreword by Joni Eareckson Tada.

Description: Wheaton, Illinois: Crossway, [2019] | Includes bibliographical references and index.

Identifiers: LCCN 2018034125 (print) | LCCN 2018052571 (ebook) | ISBN 9781433561498 (pdf) | ISBN 9781433561504 (mobi) | ISBN 9781433561511 (epub) | ISBN 9781433561481 (trade paperback)

Subjects: LCSH: Laments in the Bible. | Bible. Psalms—Criticism, interpretation, etc. | Bible. Lamentations—Criticism, interpretation, etc. | Grief—Religious aspects—Christianity. | Suffering—Religious aspects—Christianity.

Classification: LCC BS1199.L27 (ebook) | LCC BS1199.L27 V76 2019 (print) | DDC 220.6/6—dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018034125

Crossway is a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers.

2019-03-05 04:20:19 PM

To my wife, Sarah,

who courageously walked with me

through our pilgrimage of lament.

I love you.

To my daughter, Sylvia,

whom God used to teach me that

hard is hard; hard is not bad.

We miss you.

Contents

Foreword by Joni Eareckson Tada

Acknowledgments

Introduction: Life in a Minor Key | A Personal Journey

Part 1 Learning to Lament | Psalms of Lament

 1  Keep Turning to Prayer | Psalm 77

 2  Bring Your Complaints | Psalm 10

 3  Ask Boldly | Psalm 22

 4  Choose to Trust | Psalm 13

Part 2 Learning from Lament | Lamentations

 5  A Broken World and a Holy God | Lamentations 1–2

 6  Hope Springs from Truth Rehearsed | Lamentations 3

 7  Unearthing Idols | Lamentations 4

 8  A Road Map to Grace | Lamentations 5

Part 3 Living with Lament | Personal and Community Applications

 9  Making Lament Personal

10  Let Us Lament

Conclusion: Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy | The Journey Ahead

Appendix 1 Twenty Complaints

Appendix 2 Psalms of Lament

Appendix 3 Learning-to-Lament Worksheet

Appendix 4 But, Yet, And

Bibliography

General Index

Scripture Index

Foreword

When a broken neck ambushed my life and left me a quadriplegic, I felt as though God had smashed me underfoot like a cigarette. At night, I would thrash my head on the pillow, hoping to break my neck at a higher level and thereby end my misery. After I left the hospital, I refused to get out of bed; I told my sister, “Just close the drapes, turn out the light, and shut the door.” My paralysis was permanent, and inside, I died.

You don’t have to be in a wheelchair to identify. You already know that sad situations sometimes don’t get better. Problems don’t always get solved. Conflicts don’t get fixed. Children die, couples divorce, and untimely deaths rock our world and shake our faith.

We try to manage, like jugglers spinning plates on long sticks. When we feel utterly overwhelmed, we try soaking in the tub, sweating on the treadmill, splurging on a new dress, or heading to the mountains for the weekend. We smile and say we are trusting God, but down deep we know it’s a lie. We’re only trusting that he doesn’t load us up with more plates.

That’s how I felt. But after weeks in bed, I got tired of being depressed, and I finally cried out, “God, if I can’t die, please show me how to live.” It was just the prayer God was waiting for.

From then on, I would ask my sister to get me up and park me in my wheelchair in front of my Bible. Holding a mouth stick, I would flip this way and that, looking for answers—any answer. I sought the help of a Christian counselor-friend who took me directly to the book of Lamentations. He showed me the third chapter:

I am the man who has seen affliction . . .

surely against me [God] turns his hand

again and again the whole day long. (Lam. 3:1, 3)

I marveled, thinking, that’s me!

I was amazed to learn that God welcomes our laments. I would eventually learn—mainly through Lamentations and Psalms—that nothing is more freeing than knowing God understands. When we are in pain, God feels the sting in his chest. Our frustrations and questions do not fluster him. He knows all about them. He wrote the book on them. More astoundingly, he invites us to come and air our grievances before him.

And for moving through pain and grief, Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy is the best of guides. Mark Vroegop knows how to write on the subject: he’s not only experienced deep suffering; he’s pastored hurting people for over two decades. He shows the reader what to do with anger and depression—not sweep it under the carpet of your conscience or minimize it, but actually do something good with it.

If your plates are spinning out of control—if you are crying, “God, I can’t live this way”—then please know that you have a companion in Mark Vroegop. Make his remarkable book your friend on this journey. Its gifted author has lived in the inner sanctum of Christ’s suffering and is a faithful sage when it comes to finding practical help in the midst of pain. Let Mark guide you; let God’s Spirit guide you—for hope is about to break on your horizon over the next few chapters.

Joni Eareckson Tada

Joni and Friends International Disability Center

Acknowledgments

I’ve wanted to write this book for over a decade. Without the support and encouragement of a host of people, it would never have become a reality.

I’m grateful for the people in two churches who were vital to my journey in lament. Calvary Baptist Church in Holland, Michigan, not only gave me the gift of serving as senior pastor from 1996 to 2008. They also cared for my family following the death of Sylvia, our daughter—even sending our family away for two weeks so we could begin the long process of healing. Our family will never forget their kindness to us when the dark clouds of unspeakable grief rolled in.

For the last ten years I’ve been privileged to lead the people of College Park Church in Indianapolis. Our journey through Job, Psalms, and Lamentations provided a working laboratory for every part of this book. These gracious and hungry people have devoured the Word and put it into practice in a way that continues to bring me great joy.

The elders of College Park Church graciously provided a sabbatical in 2014, when the vision for this book was birthed. Developing my skills as a writer was an objective, and Ann Kroeker became my writing coach. She was the first person to convince me not only that a book about lament was needed but also that I should write it. Her relentless encouragement and professional advice fueled the early development of this book.

Robert and Austin from Wolgemuth and Associates took a risk on an unpublished author. Their support was invaluable. They opened doors and provided guidance along each step of this journey. Without the two of them, this book would still just be a crazy idea.

Dave DeWit from Crossway offered thoughtful coaching in the early stages of the development of the manuscript. To have a man with such skill and compassion read my messy prose was one of the many grace gifts of this process. Dave’s gift of encouragement kept my self-doubts at bay.

A team of friends made my manuscript better. Tim Whitney, Dale Shaw, Debbie Armbruster, Dustin Crowe, Dennis Swender, and Jackie Halderman all provided helpful critiques and suggestions. Their input and feedback were fuel for my soul as real people engaged with my thoughts.

I’m grateful to my wife, Sarah, who has been my companion on the path of lament for over twenty-five years. I’ve watched her live what I write about. A mother’s grief is uniquely painful, and yet she kept lamenting and trusting—never giving in to despair. I’ve watched her lament with more grieving mothers than I can count. I’ve seen mercy emerge within dark clouds as pain became a platform, not a pit.

Finally, I’m grateful for a Savior who set his affection on me and set me free from the bondage of my sin. His crucifixion and resurrection remind me that he bought the right to make everything right. I long for the day when a little grave in Graafschap Cemetery will yield the body of my daughter, and my faith will be sight.

While I expectantly wait, I lament.

Introduction

Life in a Minor Key

A Personal Journey

The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.

Job 1:21

Learning to lament began on my knees.

“No, Lord!” I pleaded. “Please not this!” It was 2004, and my wife, Sarah, awakened me, concerned that something was wrong with her pregnancy. A few days from her due date, she had not slept most of the night, waiting for our in-utero baby to move. Hours of tapping her tummy, shifting positions, and offering tear-filled prayers only increased my wife’s concern. Inside her womb, stillness.

I cried out in prayer next to our bed.

Pregnancy was not new for us. Eight years earlier we were shocked to hear the word “twins” from an ultrasound technician. Sarah carried our boys to thirty-nine weeks, nearly breaking the doctor’s office record for the largest womb they’d seen for twins. Three days after delivery we carried our healthy kids home. And then, three years later, we were blessed with another son. In the four years of our marriage, we welcomed three healthy children into our lives.

Not everything in life was a breeze. We faced challenges. When our three children were born, I was the teaching pastor of a church in West Michigan. The demands on me as a young pastor were heavy. I was inexperienced, and the church never lacked for challenges. So we faced many struggles; life wasn’t problem-free. However, my spontaneous prayer expressed a new depth of desperation.

I was frightened.

Later, that afternoon our doctor placed a monitor on Sarah’s womb, searching for a heartbeat. Seconds passed. Multiple angles. Silence. I saw a concerned look form on his face. He suggested we move into the ultrasound room to determine what was happening. My wife’s head dropped. She knew.

A few minutes later we could see our baby’s body on the screen. I watched as our doctor navigated the small wand. I’d seen enough ultrasounds to know what he was looking for: the grainy flutter of a beating heart. Sarah was silent. The doctor pointed to the screen. “I’m so sorry,” he said, “but the heart’s not beating.”

Our baby, only a few days from entering our lives, had died.

Sorrows Like Sea Billows

The crashing waves of grief in that moment were overwhelming. But our journey was only beginning. A few hours later we checked into the hospital. I sat by my wife’s bed as she endured hours of labor. We prayed and cried together. About twenty-four hours after hearing the crushing news, I held the nine-pound body of my lifeless daughter, Sylvia. As I cradled her, swaddled in a hospital blanket, I longed for her to wake up. Her fully developed body looked so normal. But there was no breathing.

She was beautiful but not alive.

I felt such piercing grief and sorrow, it’s impossible to fully describe. Pain and fear mingled together in a jumbled torrent of emotion. Thoughts about the future raced through my mind. Questions haunted me: How would my boys respond to this level of sadness? Would my wife ever be happy again? What if we never conceived another child? How could I live with this pain while feeling the need to have it all together as I pastored a church? Would our marriage make it?

So many questions.

So much fear.

Discovering Lament

Following Sylvia’s death, I poured out my heart to the Lord with desperate candor. I fought the temptation to be angry with God. I wrestled with sadness that bored a hole in my chest. In the midst of my pain, I began to find words and phrases in the Bible that captured the emotions of my heart. Some leapt off the pages.

The Bible gave voice to my pain. Particular psalms became my own. I read these passages before, but I had never seen them or heard them like this. A years-long journey began. In that process, I discovered a minor-key language for my suffering: lament.

Although I had been a student of the Bible for many years, biblical lament was new for me. I didn’t even know what to call it at the time. I was merely trying to voice my fears and struggles while at the same time pointing my heart toward God. My quest for spiritual survival opened my heart to this historic and biblical form of prayer.

Sorrow tuned my heart to hear the song of lament.

The gut-level honesty expressed in lament was refreshing and helpful. You see, I knew the assurances of God’s love in passages like Romans 8 and others. I believed somehow God would work out everything for his good purposes. I never doubted that.

Yet my grief was not tame.

It was vicious.

I battled fears, disappointments, and sorrow. And in my journey, I discovered the grace of lament, a song I never wanted to sing. However, once I was in the crucible, I was deeply thankful for this uninvited dimension of the Christian life.

Looking back, I can see how lament became my guide, my teacher, and my solace.

The years that followed Sylvia’s death were a roller coaster of emotions and challenges. We suffered multiple miscarriages and a false-positive pregnancy. However, our painful yet honest prayers helped turn our agony into a platform for worship.

Lament helped us navigate the wilderness of our grief.

Uncomfortable with Lament

However, in that journey we also learned that many Christians, like us, were unfamiliar—even uncomfortable—with lament. When occasionally I candidly shared a few of the struggles of my soul, some people reacted with visible discomfort. Others quickly moved to a desperate desire to “find the bright side,” a quick change of the subject, an awkward silence, or even physically excusing themselves to escape the tension.

When people stayed in the conversation, they often responded in unhelpful ways. In moments of attempted comfort, people said things like “I’m sure the Lord will give you another baby,” “Maybe more people will come to faith because of the death of your daughter,” or “The Lord must know he can trust you with this.”

Every person meant well. I appreciated their attempts to address our pain. But it became clear that most people did not know how to join us in our grief.

Lament was just not familiar terrain.

Lament as Grace

As I read books on grief, I discovered many attempts to explain the purpose of pain or to walk readers through the stages of grief. While these are helpful at some level, they frequently missed or ignored the concept of lament. Finding an explanation or a quick solution for grief, while an admirable goal, can circumvent the opportunity afforded in lament—to give a person permission to wrestle with sorrow instead of rushing to end it. Walking through sorrow without understanding and embracing the God-given song of lament can stunt the grieving process.

I came to see lament as a helpful gift from the Lord.

Through this journey, I came to love Psalm 13. I had read it many times before. This time it was personal. It expressed my heart and served as a path for my grief. It kept my soul out of the ditches of despair and denial. I memorized the words. It became a help to my soul and to others in pain.

How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?

How long will you hide your face from me?

How long must I take counsel in my soul

and have sorrow in my heart all the day?

How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?

Consider and answer me, O Lord my God;

light up my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death,

lest my enemy say, “I have prevailed over him,”

lest my foes rejoice because I am shaken.

But I have trusted in your steadfast love;

my heart shall rejoice in your salvation.

I will sing to the Lord,

because he has dealt bountifully with me. (vv. 1–6)

Through this personal odyssey, I began to see the redemptive value of lament and wonder why it was often missing. For example, I listened differently at funerals, and they seemed lament-lite. The absence of lament in our worship services also struck me. I noticed how the majority of songs were celebratory and triumphant. While I have nothing against celebration and pointing people toward hope, the depth of my grief caused me to long for the honest and candid spiritual struggle with pain. Celebration is certainly not wrong, but with a consistent absence of lament, it felt incomplete.

Through the years I began to talk about lament. I incorporated it into funeral services. I taught on it in my sermons. The effect was startling. Grieving people came out of the shadows. My life and pastoral ministry involved numerous conversations with hurting people. I began helping people discover how lament invites us to grieve and trust, to struggle and believe. I walked people through their grief by leading them—even encouraging them—to lament. I started to understand at a new level why the Psalms are so helpful to hurting people.

I began to see lament as a rich but untapped reservoir of God’s grace.

Deep Mercy in Dark Clouds

The aim of this book is to help you discover the grace of lament—to encourage you to find deep mercy in dark clouds. The title is taken from two verses in Lamentations that seem to be a paradox. But they aren’t.

How the Lord in his anger

has set the daughter of Zion under a cloud! (Lam. 2:1)

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;

his mercies never come to an end. (Lam. 3:22)

When the circumstances of life create dark clouds, I hope you’ll come to embrace lament as a divinely given liturgy leading you to mercy. This historic song gives you permission to vocalize your pain as it moves you toward God-centered worship and trust. Lament is how you live between the poles of a hard life and trusting in God’s sovereignty.

Lament is how we bring our sorrow to God. Without lament we won’t know how to process pain. Silence, bitterness, and even anger can dominate our spiritual lives instead. Without lament we won’t know how to help people walking through sorrow. Instead, we’ll offer trite solutions, unhelpful comments, or impatient responses. What’s more, without this sacred song of sorrow, we’ll miss the lessons historic laments are intended to teach us.

Lament is how Christians grieve. It is how to help hurting people. Lament is how we learn important truths about God and our world. My personal and pastoral experience has convinced me that biblical lament is not only a gift but also a neglected dimension of the Christian life for many twenty-first-century Christians.

A broken world and an increasingly hostile culture make contemporary Christianity unbalanced and limited in the hope we offer if we neglect this minor-key song. We need to recover the ancient practice of lament and the grace that comes through it. Christianity suffers when lament is missing.

A Journey in Lament

This book charts a course for our journey. It will take us through an exploration of four lament psalms and the one biblical book dedicated to the subject: Lamentations. In part 1, I’ll try to help you learn to lament. In part 2, I hope to show you what we learn from lament. And finally, in part 3, we’ll explore how to live with lament—both personally and with others.

Although I didn’t realize it at the time, Sylvia’s stillbirth would be the beginning of my discovery of lament. The path of grief created an affection for the biblical language of sorrow that would extend into other areas of my life and pastoral ministry.

My fearful prayer—“Please not this!”—was only the beginning of a providential journey of learning to love lament and the grace that comes through it. Regardless of the circumstances in your life, this minor-key song can help you.

Join me on this journey.

There is deep mercy under dark clouds when we discover the grace of lament.

Reflection Questions

1.  What is your story with pain or sorrow? What painful events in your life have shaped your soul and your understanding of God?

2.  What are some of the questions and struggles you frequently have to fight when you are dealing with pain?

3.  What are some of your favorite passages in the Bible that bring comfort and assurance to those who are suffering?

4.  How would you define lament, and what is your perspective on it?

5.  When you’ve had to help a friend or a loved one through the pain of suffering, what are some things you’ve found helpful and unhelpful?

Part 1

Learning to Lament

Psalms of Lament

1

Keep Turning to Prayer

Psalm 77

In the day of my trouble I seek the Lord;

in the night my hand is stretched out without wearying;

my soul refuses to be comforted.

When I remember God, I moan.

Psalm 77:2–3

Who taught you to cry? The answer, of course, is “no one.” Although you don’t remember it, the first sound you made when you left the warm and protected home of your mother’s womb was a loud wail.1 A heartfelt protest.

Every human being has the same opening story. Life begins with tears. It’s simply a part of what it means to be human—to cry is human.

But lament is different. The practice of lament—the kind that is biblical, honest, and redemptive—is not as natural for us, because every lament is a prayer. A statement of faith. Lament is the honest cry of a hurting heart wrestling with the paradox of pain and the promise of God’s goodness.

To Lament Is Christian

Belief in God’s mercy, redemption, and sovereignty create lament. Without hope in God’s deliverance and the conviction that he is all-powerful, there would be no reason to lament when pain invaded our lives. Todd Billings, in his book Rejoicing in Lament,helps us understand this foundational point: “It is precisely out of trust that God is sovereign that the psalmist repeatedly brings laments and petitions to the Lord. . . . If the psalmists had already decided the verdict—that God is indeed unfaithful—they would not continue to offer their complaint.”2