Lament For A Child: Finding Healing In Pain

The teenage girl pummels her father’s chest as she screams, “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!” Her tear-stained glare reproaches his betrayal. We are shocked to witness such an outburst. Yet what if we learned her father had just informed the family they were moving cross-country for his job? And what if moments later, we saw him hold her tightly in his loving arms as she sobs with heavy heart? She can’t possibly understand why her family has to move. She doesn’t grasp the bigger picture. She simply feels a sense of loss as her emotions tumble to the surface.

The pain of lament rarely shows the healing which is to come, nor captures the full relationship we enjoy with God. Lament merely takes a snapshot in the moment. Often, this looks like anger with our Father—though not anger at him, but with him in his presence. Lament is not us complaining about our God, but complaining to him about our problems. It is not sinful venting (Proverbs 29:11), but rather pouring out our hearts to the One who truly cares (1 Peter 5:7). Yet still, lament might make us feel uncomfortable: “Can I really say these words? Are such raw emotions permissible?” Lament is the mother who cries out in the pain of miscarriage. It is the couple who mourns the enduring heartache of infertility. It is God’s people looking back at losses we’ve sustained or the prophet Jeremiah pouring out his soul when Jerusalem has been destroyed.

The book of Lamentations brings us to a time shortly after Judah’s exile to Babylon when God has finally judged his people after years of sinful rebellion. The prophet Jeremiah grieves as Israel reaps the consequence of sorrow. Yet in lament, God’s people discover healing through remembrance and not suppression—through grieving and not forgetting. Lamentations 2 is a well-crafted acrostic poem—a work of art which the Jews would recite in worship to recall the holy city. In her defeat to Babylon, Jerusalem lost homes and ramparts, palaces and gates, her temple as the place she worshiped God. The holy city gave up priests and kings, prophets and people both young and old. She surrendered her favored status as God’s chosen one. Under siege, the Almighty actually positioned himself as her enemy—a warrior not fighting for her, but against her. So, in Lamentations 2, we will witness dark clouds of judgment (vv. 1-10) and the prophet’s desperate complaint (vv. 11-17) before discovering the divine compassion of our Lord (vv. 18-22).

Application Insight: Read Lamentations 2 aloud, then write your own lament about a recent loss. Start by pouring out your heart to God about the pain you feel. Be honest and raw. Don’t hold back or try to edit your thoughts just yet. Instead, sit with the sorrow for a time until you have it down on paper. Then, pray aloud what you have written to the Lord, “Father, here’s a snapshot of my momentary sorrows. I know it’s not the end of your story for me, yet it honestly expresses the way I feel right now.”

As an example, the following lament was written by one of our church members while grieving the pain of miscarriage and infertility.

Heavenly Father,

You are my God who sees and knows all things.

You know how my soul has waited and yearned for a child—a child to raise in the fear of You—a child I can love with Your precious love.

Yet you are the sovereign God, in control of the world and of my life.

You know with every passing month, the slow ache that builds within my heart.

You know with each friend’s pregnancy or birth announcement how my heart is pierced by sorrow, intermingled with my joy for them.

You know with every passing year, how my soul feels tested in the fire as you puncture me with heartbreak.

And You know with each anniversary of our miscarriages how my soul still grieves and cries out for the babies I could never hold.

Yet I will choose to hold fast and trust in You, O God. Although I suffer the pangs of loss and so many what-ifs, I have never doubted Your love for me.

Thank you, Father, for teaching me to trust in you, in spite of all the disappointment and the pain. Thank you for teaching me to take joy in the everyday while I continue to hope in Your promises. These long months of waiting remind me that we still live in the "already, but not yet." We already have victory assured in Christ, even when we cannot fully experience those blessings in a fallen world.

Lord, I would have never chosen these sorrows and joys to be my story, but I know that in Your wisdom You have used them for my good and for Your glory So, I surrender every child of mine to You, born or unborn, and I pray for each of them to bring You praise.

In Jesus’ name, I cry, “Amen!”