I had a wonderful time sharing at a local women’s group this last weekend. We looked at some of the spiritual practices that have helped me hold on to God during a particularly difficult few years. In this mini series, I am going to share some of that material with you. I hope and pray that there is something that you would like to try out in your own life.

Why spiritual practices?

I don’t know how your year has begun, but I have to say for my family and I it was nothing like we expected! My husband is the pastor of our church and, while we had a quiet Christmas, we had a busy weekend of New Year’s celebrations planned – a church party New Year’s Eve followed by a café-style church brunch service the following day. When I started feeling ill towards the end of the previous week I didn’t think too much of it – until I got really quite poorly. I was shocked when my Covid test was positive – I hadn’t had it at all up until that point.

So I spent the whole weekend and beyond isolating. When a new year comes round, many people – myself included – take the opportunity to look back over the previous year (although it took me a few extra days before I could get started on this), to thank God for all the good things and let go of the bad, and also resolve to go deeper with him in the next year. Perhaps Bible reading has become lax or there are other ways we haven’t done as well as we could – and we ask for his help to do better. But while Paul does talk about training like an athlete in 1 Corinthians 9 I think we can falsely believe we need to do certain things in order for God to love us. That’s just not right. If you know you can fall into that mindset, take a moment now to simply be in God’s presence, and be aware of his love for you.

I do think we’ve all been affected by the pandemic and January is a good time to refresh our spiritual lives anyway, in terms of what we do regularly to keep ourselves spiritually fit. It can sometimes feel like a new year stretches out before us, full of unknowns, but spiritual practises help to ground us, and draw us closer into God’s presence. I’d like to share about some perhaps lesser known (or at least lesser spotlighted) spiritual practices, which have held me during a period when I simply couldn’t do much more than get through each day.

Introducing lament

The Bible is full of lament, and it is an important way of processing difficulties. Lament simply means crying out to God, presenting our requests to him and sharing with him our pain and anguish.

Each one of us will face disappointments (such as being let down by those we love, hurt by the church), bereavement, negative circumstances that may be the result of our own sin or someone else’s. And many of us will face intense suffering, such as physical pain and/or mental ill health. 

Jesus himself said: “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33). So why do we find it so difficult to accept that? And why do we seem to be ill-equipped to deal with it in a healthy way? How do we take heart?

Life is hard – we do have the promise that one day: ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain’ (Rev 21:3-4) but, until then, God doesn’t expect us to hide our difficulties away. 

In fact he ensured that the songbook created for his people the Israelites contained plenty of examples of how to express the pain we feel in our difficulties. They actually sang laments together as a corporate body using these psalms. And we also have the books of Job and Lamentations.

Throughout the Bible we can see many examples of tears alongside prayers – including Jesus’ example in the Garden of Gethsemane – lament is very much a part of the biblical narrative. 

Our need to lament

God invites us to voice our struggles because he knows that if we don’t express our laments, we can become totally consumed and distracted by them – or ignore them, which can result in physical ailments as the emotional pain has no other way of being expressed and we are total, whole beings – our spiritual, physical, emotional beings all tied up and affecting one other.

I first connected with the psalms of lament in a time of intense pain and sin in my own life (which I talk about in my book Taking Off the Mask). When I read the words ‘My wounds fester and are loathsome because of my sinful folly. I am bowed down and brought very low; all day long I go about mourning…I am feeble and utterly crushed; I groan in anguish of heart’ (from Psalm 38:5–6,8) it was like the writer was describing exactly where I was at, and it helped me to reach out to God while I was in such turmoil.

Back then, it was a revelation of my own sinfulness and the resulting pain that caused me to lament. But in more recent years, it has been a cry from deep in my soul that has been almost unstoppable. It has become a way I have desperately tried to remain connected to God through circumstances that have threatened to engulf me or those I dearly love. Some days it can sometimes feel like all hope is lost – and yet lament is the bridge that helps me find my way back to God when he seems distant or hidden. Lament is, ultimately, hope-filled. It helps us to vocalise our determination that, despite circumstances that are totally bewildering, we refuse to turn away from our heavenly Father. We know he is good and has understanding way beyond ours. And so we can pour out our anguish and tears, alongside our praise, before him, knowing that he sees, hears, understands and is with us.

Next time we will look at how we can utilise psalms of lament in our everyday lives.