Lament as a Practice of Trust

If I’m being honest here, the past year has been tough. My husband was injured on the first day of our long-awaited three-week vacation, and we had to rush home so he could have surgery. After months of rehab, just as he was regaining his strength, he lost his job. Then I suffered a traumatic fall, breaking multiple bones and puncturing a lung. And we’re still waiting on a job.

My heart’s desire is to trust God even in these difficult circumstances.

Job, the poster child for loss and suffering, exclaims, “Though he slay me yet I will trust in him” (Job 13:15 NKJV). Such bold faith is inspiring. But in the midst of my hardship, it’s much easier to relate to his later lament, “For the thing that I fear comes upon me, and what I dread befalls me. I am not at ease, nor am I quiet; I have no rest, but trouble comes” (Job 3:25-26 ESV).

For too long I have neglected the practice of lament in favor of polite prayers and hallelujahs affirming my trust in God. But lately I have found myself examining lament as a genuine expression of trust—trusting God with honest cries of sorrow and helplessness.

Lament is a uniquely Christian way to grieve. In his article, “Dare to Hope in God: How to Lament Well,” Mark Vroegop points out the four elements that separate lament from sorrow. They are:

1. Turning to God
2. Bringing your complaint
3. Asking boldly
4. Choosing to trust

“Lament turns toward God when sorrow tempts you to run from him,” Vroegop writes. It is not avoiding pain but inviting God into our grief.

Job neither diminished his suffering nor diminished his God. In despair, he exclaims,

“I loathe my life; I will give free utterance to my complaint; I will speak in the bitterness of my soul. I will say to God, Do not condemn me; let me know why you contend against me.” (Job 10:1-2 ESV, emphasis mine)

Turning to God and asking the hard questions when you are hurting may even require greater faith than trusting God when life is good.

In his abject despair, Job never stops seeking God and eventually encounters him. During that encounter, Job’s perspective is transformed:

Then Job replied to the Lord: “I know that you can do all things; no purpose of yours can be thwarted. You asked, ‘Who is this that obscures my plans without knowledge?’ Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know. “You said, ‘Listen now, and I will speak; I will question you, and you shall answer me.’ My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you. (Job 42:1-5 NIV)

Lament positions us to see God’s face. This practice is tenderly illustrated by C. S. Lewis in The Magician’s Nephew:

“But please, please—won’t you—can’t you give me something that will cure Mother?”

Up till then he had been looking at the Lion’s great feet and the huge claws on them; now, in his despair, he looked up at its face. What he saw surprised him as much as anything in his whole life. For the tawny face was bent down near his own and (wonder of wonders) great shining tears stood in the Lion’s eyes. They were such big, bright tears compared with Digory’s own that for a moment he felt as if the Lion must really be sorrier about his Mother than he was himself.

This is where prayers of lament take me. To the place where I am looking at the face of God, knowing that he feels my pain. In that moment, I am comforted. My circumstances remain the same, but my perspective shifts.

In the words of the prophet Habakkuk,

Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls” yet I will rejoice in the LORD; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. (Hab. 3:17-18 ESV)

Lament has become a pathway to joy. Honest, sorrowful prayers to a God who sees and understands the difficulty in my circumstances. The same God who has redeemed me and promises to be with me, both now and forever.

Ann Skalaski and her husband of thirty-three years live in Gainesville, FL. They have moved a dozen times, raising three children along the way. They have added a son-in-law, daughter-in-law, and two precious grandsons to the mix. When she is not packing or unpacking, Ann enjoys serving as a mentor mom for MOPS International, joining Bible studies, meeting friends for coffee, taking long walks, and watching lots of football. Ann is passionate about using lessons from her journey to help other women navigate change in their own lives.

Photograph © Jonatán Becerra, used with permission