When my parents decided to end their 35-year marriage in 2020, my life was shattered in an instant. I couldn’t understand how a God that loved me so much could allow my family to be ripped apart, never to be put back together again.
All in Grief
When my parents decided to end their 35-year marriage in 2020, my life was shattered in an instant. I couldn’t understand how a God that loved me so much could allow my family to be ripped apart, never to be put back together again.
Pain and loss have deep purpose in Kingdom work. We don’t simply move through lament, find healing, and consider it the end. We should ask the Lord, “What have I learned? What do I do now with this experience?”
When we faithfully practice lament, diligently search the Scriptures, and incorporate Scripture into our prayers, we unlock the experience of profound peace. This is an experienced peace—not the resolution of every “why,” nor the sudden release of burdens that may have weighed on our hearts for years.
In lamenting, after naming your pain and honestly telling God how you feel about difficult or disappointing life experiences, the next step is anchoring yourself in Scripture. Our feelings are real and must be acknowledged, but Truth always steadies us more than emotion ever can. To do this well, we must know God’s Word and apply it.
In recent years, the topic of biblical lament has surfaced in teaching and writing. About two years ago, I began exploring it myself and realized there was something deep within me I needed to face—something I had pushed aside instead of bringing honestly before the Lord. How do you we well? What does healthy lament really look like?
I didn’t recognize the number, so I let the call go to voicemail. I listened as my cousin’s friend told me to call her as soon as possible. Hands shaking, I pressed the number on the phone. She said, “It is about John.” Her voice cracked as she held back tears. “He had emergency surgery this morning, and he passed away shortly after.” I burst into tears; my only living cousin on my dad’s side of the family had passed.
A parent with devastating news posted a prayer request in our group. While the rest of us stumbled with our responses, one woman wrote, “I have no words.”
I walked through the pasture attempting to solve a mystery, an unusually large tangle of feathers hanging from the fence. However, upon closer examination, I gasped to see two large eyes from within the tangle staring directly into mine.
Have you ever felt unloved?
Genesis 29 unfolds the story of Leah, who was married to a man who loved someone else. God saw Leah in her unloved state and opened her womb. She gave birth to Jacob’s first-born son, Reuben, and declared, “…the LORD has seen my misery. Surely my husband will love me now” (Genesis 29:32).
Recently, I walked through a difficult season in life that involved sorrow, suffering and unexpected disappointment. I wanted desperately to “do this right” and I often prayed that somehow God would be glorified through this process. Then I read about a season in Peter’s life where he was “sifted”.
I am, unfortunately, all too experienced at saying these goodbyes! But, I was not prepared for six granddaughters to simultaneously wail so loudly that their mothers came running!
A friend’s daughter posted on social media that she had been pregnant and lost the baby. My heart hurt for her. I know in part how she feels. I have miscarried twice. I remembered those feelings from long ago.
A curveball: “something unexpected, surprising, or disruptive” (online Dictionary). Ever been thrown a curveball, ladies? How about a year of curveballs? Not entirely what I expected of 2021, especially after 2020.
Albert György created a statue to portray his intense grief after the death of his wife. The statue, called Melancholy, is located in Geneva, Switzerland. If you haven’t seen it, look it up. It’s been said the statue’s bowed head, huge hole in the torso, and missing pieces of flesh and muscle express as nothing else the feeling of deep, consuming grief.
Ah, Job I thought as I contemplated the Womenary calendar last fall—not exactly the most uplifting book. Now wasn’t that just typical of 2020! But what better time than the present to consider the reality of suffering with all the ups and downs of that year and the February deep freeze of this. Let’s jump on into the deep end ladies, as suffering is indeed a deep subject.
Easter came and went with a decidedly different flare this year. Granted, the online services were phenomenal and reached way more than even the usual Easter crowd. A sense of worship was in the air.
Esther is another example of a woman in crisis, albeit of a different kind. More precisely, all the Jews in the vast Medo-Persian kingdom ruled by Xerxes were in dire straits and Esther was the only one who had any hope of getting the ear of the king. You see, Haman held a grudge against Mordecai, Esther’s adopted caregiver, because he refused to bow down and honor him (Esther 3:2). So Haman looked for a way to destroy all Mordecai’s people, the Jews, throughout the whole kingdom of Xerxes (3:6). He persuaded Xerxes: “They do not obey the king’s laws; it is not in the king’s best interest to tolerate them” (3:8). The date was set to annihilate all…on a single day (3:13).
2020 is definitely one for the history books. What details will you cling to? For instance, where were you when JFK was shot? I was on my way with my mom to have my prom dress altered. On 9/11 I had turned on Fox News as I dressed for Tuesday morning Bible study, in time to see the second tower fall. My husband, September 1945, vividly remembers his mom propelling his terrified 4-year-old self past the barricade at the Vancouver (BC) train station to meet this uniformed stranger who tossed him in the air asking, “Where did you get that red hair?”