Lamentations

Psalm 13

a Psalm of David

How long, Yhwh? Will you forget me?

How long will you hide your face from me?

How long must I take counsel in my soul

and have sorrow in my heart all the day?

How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?

Consider and answer me, Yhwh, my God;

light up my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death,

lest my enemy say, "I have prevailed over him,"

lest my foes rejoice because I am shaken.

But I have trusted in your steadfast love;

my heart shall rejoice in your salvation.

I will sing to Yhwh,

because he has dealt bountifully with me.

Meanwhile, where is God? This is one of the most disquieting symptoms [of grief]. When you are happy, so happy that you have no sense of needing Him, so happy that you are tempted to feel His claims upon you as an interruption, if you remember yourself and turn to Him with gratitude and praise, you will be - or so it feels - welcomed with open arms. But go to Him when your need is desperate, when all other help is in vain, and what do you find? A door slammed in your face, and a sound of bolting and double bolting on the inside. After that, silence. You may as well turn away. The longer you wait, the more emphatic the silence will become. There are no lights in the windows. It might be an empty house. Was it ever inhabited? It seemed so once. And that seeming was as strong as this. What can this mean? Why is He so present a commander in our time of prosperity and so very absent a help in time of trouble?

Turned to God, my mind no longer meets that locked door. There was no sudden, striking and emotional transition. Like the warming of a room or the coming of daylight. When you first notice them, they have already been going on for some time. (CS Lewis, A Grief Observed)

Lamentations

Look, Yhwh, for I am in distress;

my stomach churns;

my heart is wrung within me,

because I have been very rebellious.

In the street the sword bereaves;

In the house it is like death.

He has made my teeth grind on gravel,

and made me cower in ashes;

my soul is bereft of peace;

I have forgotten what happiness is;

so I say, "My endurance has perished;

so has my hope from Yhwh."

My soul continually remembers it

and is bowed down within me.

But this I call to mind,

and therefore I have hope:

The steadfast love of Yhwh never ceases.

His mercies never come to an end.

"Yhwh is my portion," says my soul,

"therefore I will hope in him."

The grief, mourning and lamentations of God's people always end in hope! Their cries of desperation and pleas for help are drawn out and lengthy...they are not immediately removed from their distress, but they nevertheless acknowledge that the Lord will bring restoration and renewal. And he does. Take heart and remember...