What do we say to God when we aren’t sure we can trust Him? Worse, what if we don’t want anything to do with Him? How do we pray when all of our senses tell us that He isn’t who He says He is?
Most of my prayers are variations on either “help me!” or “thank you!” because those together express prayerful dependence on God. This is the language of most of the prayers in the New Testament—the Lord’s prayer fits this pattern, and Paul extols God’s greatness (Ephesians 1:3-14) and asks God for things (Eph. 1:15-23).
But there are times in life when these kinds of prayers don’t fit. What do you do when the bottom falls out and you wonder if your prayers for help have never been heard? What do you do when God seems absent? What do you do when the way you see His hand in your life doesn’t seem praiseworthy? Maybe depression or anxiety have lied to you about God’s character. Maybe your child’s suffering will not end and you’re helpless to do anything about it. Maybe God doesn’t seem sufficient for the loss of a marriage or a life.
In these times, we may be tempted to stop praying, because instead of “help me,” or “thank you,” what we want to say is “Where are you? If you love me, why this?” This brings us to another kind of prayer: lament.
What is Lament?
Simply said, to lament is to express your grief. We often lament to other people, bemoaning our difficulties. But this quickly becomes wallowing in our misery. Prayers of lament are different. Lament isn’t saying “woe is me!” It’s not wondering why we aren’t getting our way. It isn’t copying the unbelieving complaints of Israel the wilderness.
Mark Vroegop, who is a pastor in Indianapolis, defines lament as “the honest cry of a hurting heart wrestling with the paradox of pain and the promise of God’s goodness.” It asks God to act in a way consistent with His character. It longs for Him to reveal how He can be faithful and loving in our pain.
Lament is brutally honest. It’s scary, and it is messy.
But we need it.
The Language We Need For This Life
Scripture tells us that God is good and works all things for our good. We can often make sense of daily difficulties in light of this truth. But when the hard days turn into hard seasons or when our worst happens, we start to question if God is really who He says He is.
Scripture makes it clear that God is good (Exodus 34:6-7). Our feelings may tell us otherwise, but God cannot change (James 1:17). Yet “the character of God—his sovereignty, goodness, and love—creates a tension when we face painful circumstances.” And this is why we need the language of lament for life in a fallen world.
Momma, you need the language of lament for yourself as you face your own trials, and you need it to walk with your children through their pains. We know one day every tear will be wiped away, but right now, we’re crying. Lament is what allows us to take our pain to God, turning to Him despite our doubts. It’s how we confidently say, “Although I cannot see the way forward, I will not walk away from God.”
Why We Don’t Lament
Until recently, lament was a lost art in the American church. We may honestly voice our concerns to God, but if we do not understand lament, we quickly demand our own way. We need to bring lament back into our lives.
Sometimes, we assume we can only bring God something cleaned up and formal. But Lamentations—a book-length lament—says something that doesn’t fit with this: “pour out your heart like water in the presence of the Lord” (2:19). That doesn’t sound like a neat, tidy affair, but one where what we say flows out of the seat of our emotions. You can tell God how you’re feeling without hiding anything.
Perhaps more commonly, we think lament means we don’t have faith. But what sets lament apart from wallowing in our pain or venting our frustration at God is that lament turns to God. Lament demonstrates good theology: it turns to God because although we may struggle to believe Him, we also know we have nowhere else to go—which reveals a deep level of trust in God. Though our circumstances may tell us otherwise, we know God has to be who He says He is.
In my own experience, when postpartum depression made me ready to give up on God, lament is what allowed me to hold on. It’s what told me I could be completely honest with God. It’s what let me advocate for myself and live in the tension of the already-but-not-yet.
But how do we do this?
Learning To Lament
Up to 67 of the Psalms are laments, so turning to the Psalter is a good way to learn how to lament. I would encourage you to dig into them to absorb the pattern of lament for yourself. But right now, as I walk through Psalm 13 in this essay, I’ll use Mark Vroegop’s simple lament outline of Turn, Complain, Ask, and Trust.
The first step is to turn to God. In Psalm 13, David starts off by asking, “How long, LORD?” Instead of letting his questions drag him into a cycle of despair, he takes them to God. He looks to the only One who can save him.
Second, David complains. This isn’t the same as whining; it’s honestly telling God his perceived problem. Don’t hide from God how you’re feeling—even about Him.
“Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and day after day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me?” (Psalm 13:1b-2)
Then, David asks. Although he’s already asked God many questions, now he brings a specific request.
“Look on me and answer, LORD my God.
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death.” (Psalm 13:3)
Ask God for what you want to see happen. Ask Him to act in a way that shows him to be consistent with His character.
Finally, David chooses to trust. He looks beyond his circumstances and the ways they lie to him about God, deciding to believe what is true.
“But I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation.
I will sing the Lord’s praise,
for he has been good to me.” (Psalm 13:5-6)
Between the “ask” and “trust” is often where a turning point comes. It is in the “but,” where the Psalmist starts to see God’s faithfulness despite his circumstances. This happens quickly in the Psalms, but is often long in coming in our own lives. Keep preaching truth to yourself while you wait for God to work. The turning point will come, because God is faithful. Even though for a time He may seem inconsistent with His character, if He is God, He cannot be anything other than loving and good.
Christ shows us that God does care and His lovingkindness is sufficient for our needs. We know that no matter how forsaken we may feel, we are not forsaken. . Christ understands not just that feeling, but that reality: He was truly forsaken (Matthew 27:46). And now the Spirit is His presence with us even when He seems gone.
Lamenting As We Wait
No matter how proficient we become at lamenting, there will always be times when our circumstances cause us to doubt God’s goodness. But when we do, we know we can turn to lament.
And there will always be a turning point, because through Christ, God is always for us.
Sometimes the crossover to trust doesn’t happen until much later.
Sometimes the change is that we start to see Him working in ways we didn’t before.
Sometimes our priorities shift and our goals for our lives start to match His.
Sometimes we have to wait. And wait. And wait. But in the waiting, we have something to say to the One who can save us.
Prayerful Takeaways
- Meditate on a Psalm of lament. Here are a few to choose from: Psalm 13, Psalm 22, Psalm 51, and Psalm 56.
- Journal through your current pain, modeling it on Mark Vroegop’s structure of Turn, complain, ask, and trust.
- Listen to a lament such as The Sing Team’s Satisfied in You, Michael Card’s How Long, Andrew Peterson’s The Silence of God, or, for a more reflective piece, my Lament for 2020.
Further Resources
A Heart Set Free (Christina Fox)
Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy (Mark Vroegop)
A Sacred Sorrow (Michael Card)
The Sorrows of Eve 