Listen:
Lamentations 3:21-23
The memory of my suffering and homelessness is bitterness and poison.
I can’t help but remember and am depressed.
I call all this to mind—therefore, I will wait.
Certainly the faithful love of the Lord hasn’t ended; certainly God’s compassion isn’t through!
They are renewed every morning. Great is your faithfulness.
I think: The Lord is my portion! Therefore, I’ll wait for him.
Consider:
Lamentations is not one of the most popular books in the Bible. In fact, I don’t have any resources or books on my shelves about the book of Lamentations. I had to borrow one from the library in order to write this devotion.
It’s unpopular because who wants to listen to someone complain for five chapters, especially in ancient Hebraic poetry? Except by giving it less than it’s due, we miss an important and honest witness to our faith.
This 2500 years old poem is bumpy and inconsistent. It veers wildly from despondency to hope and back again. Its grammar is uneven and the meter unpredictable. Yet, this isn’t an accident of translation, but a purposeful style, reminding us when we face hard times, we can easily lose our balance, stumble, or collapse. Grief, despair, and stress cause us to lose our footing in more ways than one - and that is totally normal!
Which is why this book is so important. It’s an honest reflection of what it feels like to experience pain, stress, and loss. The Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard once commented that “suffering is precisely the consciousness of contradiction.” In other words, part of what makes this stuff so hard is because it leaves us feeling unmoored from the solid ground on which we used to stand.
Lamentations is a book which is non-judgemental. It doesn’t tell you how to feel about God or tell you what you “ought” to be doing. Instead, it reflects what we really are like - confused, uncertain, angry, and in denial. And this feels contradictory to what we “should” be.
This verse gives you permission to stop “should”ing yourself and just allow yourself to be where you are today. This is a freedom and gift which recenters us. Lamenting is a holy act.
Respond:
Think about a current feeling, situation, or loss that leaves you feeling “unmoored” or contradictory. This could be an area of stress, grief, or confusion where what you think you should feel clashes with what you actually feel. On a piece of paper or in a note on your phone, write a short, honest lament. Do not filter it. Allow your writing to be “bumpy and inconsistent,” just like the poem described. Do not try to find a solution or a “should.” Just state the raw feelings—the confusion, the anger, the pain, or the uncertainty—and the contradiction you are experiencing. After you’ve finished, simply read what you wrote, acknowledging that this honest expression of your current state is a “holy act” and a form of recentering, giving yourself permission to stop worrying about the contradiction between what you feel and what you think you should be feeling.
Pray:
Dear God,
Thanks for the reminder that it’s okay to be a mess. Seriously.
Sometimes I feel like I have to have it all together, and I’m tired of “should-ing” myself. Life gets bumpy and things feel contradictory, and I lose my balance.
Help me lean into the honesty of how I actually feel today—confused, hopeful, angry, whatever it is. Give me permission to just be where I am right now.
I want my lamenting to be a holy act.
Amen.
