Worship Opportunities

For the past three years, one of our children has attended a language immersion school. Half of his day is taught in English and the other half is taught in Spanish. It’s not easy, but since his brain is still so spongy, he absorbs the language fairly well. 

I’m amazed at how the immersion experience has taught him both in receptive and expressive language, breaking a communication barrier that once existed. Rather than being foreign, with time, it’s becoming familiar. 

There’s a language in Scripture that is meant to be familiar, but sadly, it can be foreign to us. I’m not talking about Hebrew or Greek, but the language of lament. 

In his book Dark Clouds Deep Mercy, Mark Vroegop defines biblical lament as “a prayer in pain that leads to trust.” It’s hope in God that grows from an honest expression of heartache. Lament allows suffering and hope to walk together, hand in hand. 

There are a few key people in the Bible who help us learn to be honest with our groanings, yet hopeful in the Lord. Consider Job’s heartaches from deep losses, David’s pleas for help, and the prophets’ agonies in their God-given ministries. Even Jesus himself brings His pains to the Father.

Here’s just one example of a biblical lament:

Remember my affliction and my homelessness, the wormwood and the poison. I continually remember them and have become depressed. Yet I call this to mind, and therefore I have hope: Because of the LORD’s faithful love we do not perish,for his mercies never end. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness! I say, “The LORD is my portion, therefore I will put my hope in him.” Lamentations 3:19-24

Have you ever walked through a season of suffering when it seems that trials repeatedly roll in like ocean waves? What is your native language in these seasons? Bitter words? (“Life sucks!”) Dismissive words? (“Everything is fine!” *sigh* This is the language I tend to speak!) Silent words? (You refrain from saying anything at all). 

These languages fail to bridge the gap from pain to promise. From heartache to hope. From terror to trust. They are swallowed by the pain, minimize the pain, or silence the pain.

After experiencing a rapidfire series of trials and heartaches in my own life, I look back and think I was enrolled in my own language immersion school. Just as our son expresses the difficulty of his Spanish immersion experience at times, I share the sentiment. Learning a new language is not easy… and it takes time and painfully imperfect experiences. 

As I’ve slowly learned this new language of lament, I can see how God has used it in my life, in how I see others, and in my worship of the Lord.

Like my son’s language school, lament has taught me to be more receptive to the language of others’ pain, both in the Scriptures and in everyday conversations. 

Similarly, it’s allowed me to express the cries of my heart both to God and in communication with others.

Just as a child learns a new language, there is space for mistakes, room for growth, and joy in little victories. In learning to practice the language of lament, we give ourselves and others space to be imperfect. We create unity in shared suffering and trust. We guard ourselves against clinging to bitterness and instead open our hands to the Lord.

When suffering comes, we can speak our native language or we can let ourselves be immersed in the language of lament. The more we immerse ourselves in laments through the Scriptures, the more familiar it becomes. And the more familiar it becomes, the more we are able to express it to God and collectively with others. 

Lord, help us not let the language of lament be something foreign but familiar.