Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy: Discovering the Grace of Lament

by Mark Vroegop

Finding an explanation or a quick solution for grief, while an admirable goal, can circumvent the opportunity afforded in lament—to give a person permission to wrestle with sorrow instead of rushing to end it. Walking through sorrow without understanding and embracing the God-given song of lament can stunt the grieving process.

Lament is how you live between the poles of a hard life and trusting in God’s sovereignty.

Lament is the honest cry of a hurting heart wrestling with the paradox of pain and the promise of God’s goodness.

Christians affirm that the world is broken, God is powerful, and he will be faithful. Therefore, lament stands in the gap between pain and promise.

Lament typically asks at least two questions: (1) “Where are you, God?” (2) “If you love me, why is this happening?”

You might think lament is the opposite of praise. It isn’t. Instead, lament is a path to praise as we are led through our brokenness and disappointment.6 The space between brokenness and God’s mercy is where this song is sung. Think of lament as the transition between pain and promise. It is the path from heartbreak to hope.

It’s noteworthy that at least a third of the 150 psalms are laments. It is the largest category in the entire Psalter.

Honestly praying this way recognizes that pain and suffering often create difficult emotions that are not based upon truth but feel true, nonetheless.

Lament is the language of a people who believe in God’s sovereignty but live in a world with tragedy.

In my study of lament, I’ve come to love the word yet. It marks the place in the journey where pain and belief coexist.

Part of the grace of lament is the way it invites us to pray boldly even when we are bruised badly.

By asking God for help, we are not only marshaling the resources of an omnipotent God; we are also reminding our hearts that God can be trusted.

Some laments are what theologians call imprecatory psalms. They long for the punishment of the wicked. When you face injustice, and when God’s glory—not just your pain—is your focus, it is appropriate to ask for justice to be done. Blunt requests for the defeat of the wicked have often been the prayers of godly people. Lament gives us language for talking to God about unfairness, abuse, and hidden mistreatment. We can boldly call upon God to act for the sake of justice.

In other words, Jesus lived a life of lament. He knows the sorrows of injustice, hypocrisy, false accusations, physical weakness, temptations, betrayal, and feeling abandoned. That becomes the basis for our bold requests.

“All true songs of worship are born in the wilderness of suffering,”

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take, The clouds ye so much dread Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head!

Those who lament stand on the boundary between the old age and the new and hope for things unseen.”

The entire book of Job is designed not only to highlight innocent suffering but also to demonstrate that human questions and complaints eventually end in humble worship.

Though no one taught you how to cry, the steps of lament must be learned. It is vital to the Christian faith. It is how we make our way through the pains of life while clinging to the hope of the gospel. To lament is Christian as we turn to God in prayer, lay out our complaints, ask boldly, and choose to trust.

“God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world.”

“I shall look at the world through tears. Perhaps I shall see things that dry-eyed I could not see.”

Lament can retune our hearts to what’s really important. It can invite us to consider what lies underneath our lives—what really matters.

All lament and suffering have their roots in the fallen state of the world. Sorrow and pain owe their beginning to rebellion against God’s reign.

More than just providing comfort and help in our times of sorrow, the grace of lament helps tune our hearts to the pain of others and to the foundational truths about God and the world. We can lament on behalf of our culture, identifying with the brokenness around us. When leaders fall, scandals shock, or unrighteousness reigns, we have a prayer language to embrace the disappointment instead of casting judgment.

In our laments we express the sorrow we feel. But we also rehearse the truths we believe. We interpret pain through the lens of God’s character and his ultimate mercy.

Verse 22 uses an important Hebrew word for love: hesed. This is God’s covenant love for his people. It is rooted in his character. It is the essence of who God is and how he relates to his people. All of God’s actions are rooted in hesed. Therefore, the ultimate hope for God’s people is God’s ability to keep being God.

When God strips you of everything, and all you have is him, you have enough.

Therefore, our hope is not in a change of circumstances but in the promise of a God who never stops being merciful—even when dark clouds loom.

Why is waiting so difficult? Because it feels as if we’re not doing anything. And that’s the point. You’re not doing anything, but God is.

Nicolas Wolterstorff captures the heart of this when he writes: “What I need to hear from you is that you recognize how painful it is. I need to hear from you that you are with me in my desperation. To comfort me, you have to come close. Come sit beside me on my mourning bench.”

Lament is the song we sing in the space between pain and promise. It becomes the path between the poles of a hard life and trusting God’s goodness. Lament helps us embrace two truths at the same time: hard is hard; hard is not bad.