Processing our Pain

Readings for today: Lamentations 3:37-5:22

What comes after lament? That’s a question I often deal with as a pastor. I walk with people through crisis. I sit with people in their grief. I do my best to comfort them as they mourn. I help them process their pain. After making space for all of the heartache, what comes next? After walking through the valley of the shadow of death together, what happens when one gets to the other side? Honestly, in my experience, this is where the hard work really begins.

I think of a woman I once knew who was married for decades. On the outside, things in their family looked good. He was very successful in his business. They were able to travel the world together. Pursue whatever their hearts desired. But after he passed and the funeral was over, the real truth began to emerge. Alcoholism. Abuse. A life of torment and fear. As the widow and I met to process what she was feeling, we talked about her need for healing. Her need to recover. Her need to be patient and give herself time to work through all the emotions she was experiencing. We also talked about what life would look like on the other side. Her desire to be married again. Her desire to pursue some of the dreams her husband had denied her. Her desire to reconnect with their estranged children and recover some of the years they had lost. This would require a lot of introspection and self-reflection. Owning what she needed to own and disowning what she needed to disown. Thankfully, she had the courage to walk the road faithfully before the Lord. She took up hobbies like horseback riding and cooking. She renewed her relationship with her son. She began dating a good man who treated her with the love and respect she deserved. It was beautiful to watch.

We catch Jeremiah at a much earlier, much darker place in the journey. He is still very much processing his pain. The heartache is real. The emotions are visceral. Though the reading is hard, it is good to know we can be raw and real before God. At the same time, we see the stirrings of a new season begin to emerge as well. Jeremiah calling for the people of Israel to think about what comes next after lament. Once they’ve fully grieved, they will need to take some time to reflect and repent and renew their faith and trust in God. “Who do you think “spoke and it happened”? It’s the Master who gives such orders. Doesn’t the High God speak everything, good things and hard things alike, into being? And why would anyone gifted with life complain when punished for sin? Let’s take a good look at the way we’re living and reorder our lives under God. Let’s lift our hearts and hands at one and the same time, praying to God in heaven…” (Lamentations‬ ‭3‬:‭37‬-‭42‬ ‭MSG‬‬) Jeremiah knows what comes next. He knows the people of God must return to Him if they are to experience the healing and restoration their hearts so desperately long for.

Anyone who has ever walked with grief knows the journey well. It begins in deep darkness where it’s hard to see any light at all. Momentum begins to pick up as we take our initial steps and the darkness doesn’t seem as deep. As we continue walking the road, a light does appear at the end of the tunnel. Eventually, as we keep doing the work, we emerge into the bright sunshine of a new day. God is faithful! He will walk with us through the valley of the shadow of death and as we turn to Him - lifting up our hearts and hands in worship - He promises to cast out all our fear and bring us to green pastures and still waters, to places where we will find our souls restored.

Readings for tomorrow: Ezekiel 1-4

Dealing with Despair

Readings for today: Lamentations 1:1-3:36

Reading Lamentations is hard work. It’s hard to enter into the pain and heartbreak Jeremiah feels as he watches his nation be razed to the ground. All he holds dear vanishes in a moment. His friends are struck down by the enemy. Those who are left face mass starvation and forced deportation. They are beset on every side. There is nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. There is no peace. No security. Everything they once counted on is now gone. We can’t even begin to imagine what it must feel like. Thankfully, we’ve never had to face such things in America. But I’ve spent time with those who have. I’ve visited camps where internally displaced people live who’ve lost everything due to war and conflict and violence. The conditions they live in are brutal. The challenges they face everyday are overwhelming. The pain they go through is unbearable. Their suffering is immense. I have wept with them. Prayed with them. Done what little I can to help them. Mostly, I’ve been completely at a loss to know what to do.

Despair is hard to handle. It overwhelms the senses. It fills us with anxiety and fear. It paralyzes us. We can’t see a way forward. We can’t think straight. It leaves us feeling helpless and hopeless and utterly lost and alone. Jeremiah is expressing all these feelings and more as he writes his lament for Jerusalem and his people. He is not writing as an impartial observer. He is not concerned with being objective. He is feeling everything they are feeling. He is experiencing everything they are experiencing. His struggle with despair is just as real. But Jeremiah has one thing many of his people do not. He has faith. He trusts in the Lord. He takes his despair at all he sees and experiences to God and lays it as His feet. Listen again as he describes it in his own words…

“I’ll never forget the trouble, the utter lostness, the taste of ashes, the poison I’ve swallowed. I remember it all—oh, how well I remember— the feeling of hitting the bottom. But there’s one other thing I remember, and remembering, I keep a grip on hope: God’s loyal love couldn’t have run out, his merciful love couldn’t have dried up. They’re created new every morning. How great your faithfulness! I’m sticking with God (I say it over and over). He’s all I’ve got left. God proves to be good to the man who passionately waits, to the woman who diligently seeks. It’s a good thing to quietly hope, quietly hope for help from God. It’s a good thing when you’re young to stick it out through the hard times. When life is heavy and hard to take, go off by yourself. Enter the silence. Bow in prayer. Don’t ask questions: Wait for hope to appear. Don’t run from trouble. Take it full-face. The “worst” is never the worst. Why? Because the Master won’t ever walk out and fail to return. If he works severely, he also works tenderly. His stockpiles of loyal love are immense. He takes no pleasure in making life hard, in throwing roadblocks in the way.” (Lamentations‬ ‭3‬:‭19‬-‭33‬ ‭MSG‬‬)

What a powerful testimony and what a great reminder. On some level, I imagine all of us know what it’s like to hit rock bottom. All of us have faced trouble in our lives. All of us have tasted the ashes. Swallowed the poison. Felt utterly lost and alone on some level. What I’ve discovered in my own life is that’s where God does His best work. When I came to the end of myself in 2009, I found God waiting for me there. When things were at their darkest and I had nothing left and nowhere to turn, God was with me. His loyal love did not run out. His merciful love never dried up. His faithfulness was great and transcended my broken condition. In my despair, I surrendered to Him. I entered the silence. I bowed my head in prayer. I stopped striving and trying so hard. I learned to wait. And to face my fears head on. What I discovered is the worst is never the worst because God is faithful. He will deliver those who turn to Him.

Readings for tomorrow: Lamentations 3:37-5:22