I took two years of Spanish in high school. I also took one semester of Spanish in college. I can speak and understand some Spanish, but only un poco. I have never been bilingual…until now.
Since Paxton left, I have become fluent in a new language. Unfortunately, it’s not one of the Romance languages. It’s also not a language I chose to learn and one I never wanted to speak. It’s the language of lament.
The dictionary defines lament as a verb meaning to mourn aloud: wail.
Mark Vroegop, author of Dark Clouds Deep Mercy, defines lament as “a prayer in pain that leads to trust”.
My definition of lament is:
a LAnguage MEaNT for suffering.
There is no other language that describes the angst that comes from having your child’s birth certificate and death certificate in the same place.
There is no other language that describes the ache of not only missing what was, but missing what should be.
There is no other language that describes the anguish of never being able to hug your child or hear their voice the rest of your life.
There is no other language that describes the agony of holding your child in your arms as his heart stops beating.
Often, the language of lament is not expressed through words. This picture of Paxton is a perfect example. You can see and feel the lament on his face. He broke his teeth doing a back flip at the pool. He wasn’t in pain…he was lamenting the fact his teeth were broken, but he was really lamenting because I told him he couldn’t get gold teeth. 😁
Wailing, screaming, wrestling, raging and sobbing are some ways that lament is spoken without words. Lament is needed. Lament is necessary. Lament is Biblical.
Biblical lament is trusting that God is good while acknowledging some things are not. Biblical lament is taking your complaints, your sorrows, your anger…whatever emotion you are experiencing…to Jesus without making it look or sound pretty. Biblical lament is wrestling with God in your suffering knowing some things will never be made right this side of heaven.
One of the best ways to support someone that is grieving, is to learn the language of and lean into lament. After my fourth miscarriage, a good friend said “if it’s any comfort, I’m mad at God for you too”. There is nothing more freeing than understanding lament is not sin. There is nothing more comforting than knowing Jesus identifies with us in our suffering. There is nothing more hopeful than knowing the Holy Spirit intercedes for us when all we can mutter are groanings too deep for words (Romans 8:26).
I wish I didn’t know this language. I wish I didn’t have to lean into lament. It’s a language I was forced to learn, and I’ll speak it the rest of my life.
groanings
too deep for words
I need the ache to be heard
this hurts
I search for a way
to describe the pain
wailing
sobbing
screaming
why?!
I speak a new language
of sorrow
of tears
Jesus be near me
I bring my cries to the cross
He understands the cost
He knows the pain of loss
I speak a new language
of waiting
of grief
Jesus please hold me
I bring my suffering to my Savior
He understands the hard
He meets you where you are
I speak a new language
of love left unspoken
my mama heart is broken
but I know Who to put my hope in
the God kiss 