The Art of Lament
By Winn Collier
“How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?”
Psalm 13:1 TNIV
THE PSALMS ARE heart-saturated, deeply personal expressions of the inner life of the psalmist, most often David. They are the journal of a man pouring out his love for his God. And often, I find, it is brutal, gut-wrenching, violent. David is dark. He is despairing. He is desperate. He is in love.
Biblical writers talk much of the spiritual discipline of lament. It is the act of taking the time and emotional sweat to recognize the deepest brokenness of our souls, and then mustering the courage to embrace it before God.
Lament is an act of love. It recognizes that in order to truly love, one must be truly honest. David knows that if he wants his love affair with God to be true, he must be honest about his anger with God, his accusations of God, his confusion with the perplexing way God sometimes goes silent.
Lament is a way of honoring God, of taking Him seriously. It is, as Eugene Peterson says, a way of “making the most of our loss without getting bogged down in it—[it] is a primary way of staying in the story. God is telling the story, remember … He doesn’t look kindly on our editorial deletions.”