Category: Laments

My small group is going through a wonderful book on Joy, Champagne for the Soul, by Mike Mason. I love the book, I love focusing on Joy, and I love the discussions we’re having in our group.

However, something I read yesterday hit me wrong. He was talking about Joy as a sacrifice – sacrificing whatever it is that gets in the way of Joy, whether anger or pride or complaining.

The psalmist knew how to shake free of trouble with a psalm. That’s what the psalms are – sacrifices of joy. David knew God’s pleasure is not in dead animals or rituals but in what happens in the human heart. If the heart doesn’t engage joyfully in worship, or at least emerge from worship rejoicing, then the sacrifice is incomplete. The ultimate sacrifice we can offer the Lord is the sacrifice of joy.

Many of the psalms begin in joy, and those that don’t start on a high note usually end that way. As the psalmist enters the presence of God, no matter how burdened he may be, there’s a movement from negative to positive. The heart lifts as all that weighs it down is sacrificed….

For the person committed to joy, so many roads are no longer open – scorn, impatience, complaining, criticism. When all such easy and habitual options are cut off, a wonderful clarification takes place in th spirit. The dross settles out, leaving room only for the gold of joy.

Joy is the ultimate sacrifice.

Why did those lines hit me the wrong way?

Well, first let me say that we’ve all known people who kill the joy of everyone around them with their complaining. I’m not saying that negative emotions are good things. I also agree that the Psalms move from negative to positive.

But I don’t like the term “sacrifice” used about those negative emotions. It’s not like you cut them off and you’re not allowed to feel them. It’s not a matter of squelching them and refusing to feel them. The psalmists literally say “I pour out my complaint”! They go into great detail about their problems – that’s part of the process.

So maybe that can be thought of as sacrifice if you make an effort to pour out the complaints to God instead of the people around you. But you don’t give up feeling bad, because you’re still human.

Now, with all that in mind, something that’s hurting my Joy these days is worrying about the election. So why don’t I model the Lament process by writing a Lament for the Election? Now, I already did one in my personal journal, and I think for public consumption, I won’t write out ALL my worries. But a Lament really does help you move from negative to positive – not because of “sacrificing” the negative emotions, but because of acknowledging them and bringing them to God.

Here are the parts of a Lament:
Address to God
Complaint
Confession of Trust
Entreaty
Sureness of Help
Subsequent Praise

So, here’s a sample Lament for the Election:

Lord, I come before you
to bring you my worries and fears.
Hear my prayer,
listen to my voice.

Father, I’m afraid of what could happen,
I’m worried about the future.
Especially if the guy should win who talks about
taking rights from transgender people like my daughter
and demonizing the vulnerable among us
and taking away citizenship from people who thought they had it
and deporting people who get our food to market
and depriving women of rights over their own bodies
and trying to stop people from reading books they don’t agree with
and threatening to imprison librarians like me who make those books available
and so much more.

And if he doesn’t win,
I’m worried about unrest and violence
and accusations of cheating
and disregard for the law.
I’m worried about people in power
who will try to further those outcomes.

But Lord, I do trust you.
Bad things happen,
but you always bring good out of it,
at the very least rousing people to stand up for what’s right.

You’ve given us free will,
but you also direct our steps.
I see so many people standing up for the good,
for the rights of the poor and oppressed,
for joy and hope.

Rise up, O Lord!
Send your guidance to people throughout this country.
Help people to listen to your voice,
listen to angels nudging them
even listen to their own better nature.

Let any attempts to cheat
come to light and be thwarted.
Let any violence
be stopped before it can erupt.

I do believe that your Spirit guides us, Lord.
I do believe that you are moving.

I look forward to the day after the election
when we can rejoice
because Joy and Hope have triumphed,
because we’ve elected a president
who will work to do right by the people of America.
And we will be glad!

I didn’t put names in this Lament. So honestly, if you really feel differently from me about who would try to do evil and who would work to do good, you can pray that. May we listen to God’s guidance as we vote.

And people tell me I shouldn’t let my hopes get too high. We’ve all been burned before. But part of the Lament form is visualizing how filled with joy you’ll be when God answers your prayer – and I’d rather go there.

Last week, I wrote a Lament for a Leak. This week I got much worse news, so it’s time to write a Lament for Leukemia. Except wait — I already wrote a Lament for Leukemia.

Yes, this is about my same niece, Meredith. Now she’s seven years old, and she’s still dealing with leukemia.

I remember the Lament form using the ACCESS acronym:

Address to God
Complaint
Confession of Trust
Entreaty
Sureness of Help
Subsequent Praise

[If you’re interested in reading a book about writing your own psalms, subscribe to this blog or to my Sondermusings substack, and I will definitely let you know if/when I find a publisher. You’ll also find out some things along the way. Let me encourage you to try the lament form and post your own examples in the comments.]

For now, another lament for leukemia:

[Address to God]
Lord, we don’t know where to turn
and so we turn to You.
You love us and care for us,
you hear prayer,
but we don’t understand
how children can suffer so much
in this world you’ve made.

[Complaint]
Meredith was in remission!
She did so well with immunotherapy!
No side effects!
Out of the hospital on the first possible day!

Our hopes were high.
Our hearts lifted to see her
dancing ballet,
learning Parkour.
(Parkour seems to be navigating obstacles with strength and grace —
may she navigate these new obstacles with strength and grace.)

But only a couple weeks later,
her b-cells are back.
The reengineered t-cells are no longer
protecting her from leukemia.

We don’t want to be ungrateful.
Her big sister is a match!
But the stem cell transplant process
is hard,
is risky,
is scary.
And we’d gotten to hoping she could do without it.

Lord, she’s just a kid!
Seven years old, with years of painful and uncomfortable treatments
behind her.
She was doing activities,
going back to school,
learning new things,
even growing her hair back.
Now it’s time for six more weeks in the hospital (at least).

[Confession of Trust]
Lord, we know that you do see trouble and grief.
You consider it to take it in hand.
You will be with your children
every step of the way.

[Entreaty]
Lord, have mercy!
Grant Meredith health and healing.
Uphold her family.
Grant them all grace and peace.

Give her sister peace and rest
as she donates her stem cells,
and transform her blood into
healing and salvation for Meredith.

Lord, we don’t even understand fully how it works,
but turn her sister’s blood into good medicine
that gives Meredith new health and new life
and many years of thriving.

[Sureness of Help]
Thank you, Lord, that you do hear our prayers.
Thank you for the amazing developments in medicine
that have produced this cure for leukemia.
Thank you that you have been with this family for years already
and you’re not abandoning them now.

[Subsequent Praise]
Lord, help us dare to celebrate again
when the stem cells do their work.
Let us look forward to the day
when her blood has been renewed
and she is cured.
We look forward to singing for joy
at the healing you bring.

I’m upset over something that happened yesterday. And I feel stupid for being so upset. The something is that in a rainstorm, I discovered my bedroom window is leaking badly. My office window is also leaking.

I feel like that shouldn’t upset me so much — and then my mind keeps spinning over reasons why it does.

And that gets me thinking about Psalms.

You see, I recently finished writing a book about Psalms, Praying with the Psalmists. I don’t yet have a publisher, but my premise is that you can use the patterns from Psalms to write your own prayers.

And I want to try a Lament for this Leak. I think it will help me calm down my catastrophic thinking.

I learned when studying Psalms that God wants our honesty. The psalmists seem somewhat extreme in their complaints. So if I’m extreme in what I worry about regarding this stupid leak — well, that’s okay. God can handle it.

I’ll use parallelism, and I’ll use the ACCESS form of a Lament:

Address to God
Complaint
Confession of Trust
Entreaty
Sureness of Help
Subsequent Praise

Here goes! I’m going to sit down and write this now and try not to edit it too much. This is my prayer.

[Address to God]
Lord, I’m coming to you about this leak,
I’m telling you my worries and fears
because I want to trust that you care about me;
I want to believe that you listen to my concerns.

This one seems too petty for you, God.
I’m a grown-up, shouldn’t I deal with it?
But let me come to you like a child
because as a father has compassion on his children
so you have compassion on those who follow you.

A situation like this makes me miss my father,
miss someone to turn to,
miss not having to be the most responsible one.
So it’s time to turn to You, Father.

[Complaint]
It’s just a window!
But I’ve been afraid of this.

When my air conditioner went out and pulled me back into debt,
my friend said, “What’s *really* expensive are windows.”
Just a couple years ago, our condo association sent out a notice:
Replacing windows is now the responsibility of the homeowner.
Because they’re all getting old,
and the association can’t afford to replace them all.
They had us vote on it,
but what could I do?
We don’t want our fees to go up,
but neither do I want the expense.
Had a feeling it would be relevant,
but hoped I was just superstitious.

Many months ago, I noticed a leak
in the window in my office.
But it didn’t happen again
until yesterday.
I’d hoped it was a fluke.

For the same months, I’ve been noticing a wet, rotting wood smell
near the window in my bedroom
every time it rains.
But never saw any water.
Maybe I’m imagining it?
After all, if I don’t actually see a leak,
how could it actually be there?

Then yesterday it was spitting out.
My head got sprinkled when I ducked in to see where it was coming from.

The rug was wet next to my bed.
Then I saw splashes on the things under the window.
I moved those things next to the piles
removed from my closet months ago.
I got a step ladder and found the water was coming
from the wooden casing above the window.
The paint is cracked, and water was coming out
randomly all in a line,
all along the top of the window,
falling all the way down
not in a stream I could catch in a bowl,
but spreading out and spraying.

I put down plastic,
wiped it down.
The office window was leaking too.
(Usually wind drives rain the other direction
— that’s the one good side.)

Four months ago, a bathroom leak from the condo above me
destroyed my master bathroom and closet.
I still haven’t returned everything to the closet,
trying to sort through the boxes of books.
I’ve only just recently finished cleaning the dust
from the reconstruction.
I still haven’t gotten back
the $500 deductible,
because the problem didn’t originate within my unit.

So I don’t want another project.
I haven’t put my house back together after the last one!
Problems are supposed to wait their turn!
Aren’t they?

And money!
Ten years ago, my Dad gave me the down payment to buy this place.
A few years later, a home equity loan allowed me to pay off
heavy debt from my divorce.

Then the water heater broke…
then the air conditioner…
and always, God provided.

In a few months, I’ll have my car paid off,
and I was already daydreaming about saving little by little
to buy one more car – without payments –
before I retire.

I’d got it in my head that at last I’d go back to visit Germany
where I lived for ten years,
but haven’t seen for eighteen years.
I’d go next June for my sixtieth birthday.
What better way to celebrate?

Now I feel like who am I
to dare to plan for something special like that?
Who am I to think
I can be out of debt for more than a few months at a time?

And, Lord, I know it’s so childish!
It’s expensive to own a home.
My condo already saved my financial situation.
At worst, surely I can get a home equity loan.
But I’m still complaining!
This is the part about all the thoughts going through my head:

How dare I think I can have nice things?
I’m on the Morris committee!
How can I possibly find time to have people come through my home
open up a wall
rip things apart
and put in a new window?
And how will I ever find time to clean up after?
Why can’t I just ignore the problem
and hope the wind won’t blow that direction with rain ever again?

And where do I start?
Who do I call?
(The condo association.
Maybe they can tell me where to get windows that match.)

Okay, that’s the start of my complaint, Lord!
It’s a big mess of money and time that I for sure
do not want to spend right now.

It childishly doesn’t seem fair
when I haven’t even put things back together after the other leak.

It all seemed like more when I was stewing.
But those are my complaints, Lord.
I’m not looking forward to dealing with it.
I’m not looking forward to paying for it.
I’m not looking forward to having people fix it.
I’m not looking forward to moving my furniture to make it happen.
I’m not looking forward to the disruption of folks working on it.
I’m not looking forward to cleaning up after it.

And I keep hoping the problem is just a fluke,
but yesterday was enough water
that I think the time for ignoring the problem
is long past.

[Confession of Trust]
Lord, thank you that writing all that out
isn’t nearly as bad as what was spinning in my head.
Thank you for this home
and how it solved my credit card debt.
Thank you that you provided
after all the other repairs and after dental crises and other unexpected expenses.
Thank you for that $3000 award that came
exactly when I was $3000 in debt.

Father, by now I should have learned that you can meet my needs.
And you help me deal with things I don’t want to deal with.
And you help me find professionals who know what they’re doing.
And I can really do this Grown-up stuff!

And yes, I can trust you, Lord.
And no, this isn’t a disaster.
And yes, I have so many resources
and should probably be ashamed for how upset this got me.
Because you will be with me, Lord,
as you have been with me before.

[Entreaty]
Lord, be with me
as you have promised!
Grant me wisdom
to figure out who to call,
to find trustworthy professionals,
who quote me a good price.
If I need a home equity loan to pay for it,
help me through that process, too.
Make me thankful for my cozy and beautiful home
as I invest in it something in return
for the shelter it has provided to me.

Be with me in this process, Lord.
May it not cost as much money and time
as I fear.
And provide for my needs,
as you always do.
Help me not to fret;
eliminate my disaster thinking,
and grant me grace as I carry on.

[Sureness of Help]
Lord, already I feel more calm.
I know that you see me
and you will help me
and you keep me from disaster.

[Subsequent Praise]
When it’s all done,
when I have brand-new windows
with a lovely new window treatment
(because why not?)
and my house put back together —

It’s time for me to have a party
and tell my friends:
I was so worried about this;
I felt sorry for myself dealing with it on my own,
but the Lord helped me through.

Okay, that’s my psalm of lament.

It’s childish, it’s silly. I’m making a fuss over something people deal with all the time.

But you know what? I feel better after writing that. More equipped to figure out what needs to be done, and not panic about what it will take to do it.

For you, reader, it’s not that I want to make you listen to all my petty worries. It’s that I want to share that we all have petty worries. And yes, we can pray about them! And for me, the Lament form really helps.

May the Lord bless you and keep you.

This week, my small group is covering the chapter from my not-yet-published book Praying with the Psalmists about Thanksgiving Psalms. Since I want them to try praying their own thanksgiving psalm, I’m planning to take up the challenge myself.

But then my family got some terrible news — and I need to write a lament first.

Here’s a picture of my brother’s family, which I took in Maui last December at my sister’s wedding.

Their middle child, Meredith, six years old, this week relapsed with leukemia. Her first diagnosis with leukemia was January 2020, when she was three years old. She went through two years of treatments and appointments and one year ago was given a clean bill of health, and we all thought it was over and done.

So this is quite a blow. (And anyone reading this, please say a prayer for Meredith.)

So before I tackle a thanksgiving psalm (And before this news, I was thinking of thanking God for Meredith’s healing. It was a beautiful thing.) — I need to pray a lament for Meredith and this awful news.

I made an acronym to remember the form of a Lament:
Address to God
Complaint
Confession of Trust
Entreaty
Sureness of Help
Subsequent Praise

This isn’t going to be polished. But let me pray:

Lord, I come before you.
Hear my prayer.
Listen to my heart’s cry
and look with compassion on my family.

Six years old, Lord!
She’s only six years old.
Pain and discomfort and medical appointments have been a big part of her life.
Lord, she’s a child!
Not a saint, but a beautiful wonder of your creation.
With your image inside her,
the spark of independent thought,
a little girl full of life and wonder and curiosity and fun.
Her family’s been through so much, Lord.
Her parents have lived with the fear of losing her for half her life.
On top of so many other pressures.
Lord, it’s too much!
Father, I notice that when I mention to anyone
that my six-year-old niece is again facing leukemia,
every single person responds with compassion.
How could you do anything less?
Lord, look on this child, this family
have compassion on their pain and fear.

And, Lord, you showed up before.
You got them through those two years of treatments.
They were daunted; it was hard,
but her body responded well
and she finished the treatments
with joy and celebration.
We know that your compassion is unending
and your mercy is great.

Lord, grant Meredith your healing.
Grant her family your grace and strength.
We ask for life for Meredith,
life and health and joy.
Show your mercy;
send your comfort.

“You, O God, do see trouble and grief;
you consider it to take it in hand.”
We know that you love Meredith
more than any human can.
We know that you see;
we know that you care.

And Lord, we look forward to the day
when we can celebrate again
for Meredith once more
enjoying a body free of cancer.
Somehow, we’re going to top a unicorn party!