I'll Cry If I Want To
Because life is filled with loss, to be human is to live with grief. The problem is, we're rarely taught to grieve. How can we learn to lament our losses?
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By my fifth birthday, I was well-acquainted with loss; my biological dad had left us, and my grandfather had taken his life. But amidst the haze of my early memories, another loss left a profound mark.
I remember being in our mustard yellow kitchen, and the sun was spilling through the windows, covering the room in warm light. The phone rang, and my mom ran to answer it.
She listened, screamed, and ran with the phone into the other room.
I remember being scared and confused. I have a fuzzy memory of my mom finally coming back into the kitchen and doing her best to explain what had happened.
Our family friends had been in a car accident on the way home from vacation. They were hit by a semi. Thankfully, they were able to use the jaws of life to get everyone out, but my friend, Jeremy, was killed in the crash.
Shortly thereafter, I remember attending his funeral. We all wore bright clothes, as they tried to make this tragic event a celebration of his young life. I especially remember that we all released balloons into the air at the end of the ceremony. You could still see them in the sky as we drove away.
This is my first memory of death. It’s very confusing when you’re young. Jeremy was in the world one day and not the next.
Sadly, this is only one of many stories I could share of profound loss. I would guess that your life is filled with these stories too.
Life is filled with loss.
We lose loved ones.
We lose dreams.
We lose jobs.
We lose relationships.
We lose faith.
Life is filled with loss. And because life is filled with loss, to be human is to live with grief. Grief is the emotion we feel in response to loss. It contains sadness, anger, and confusion. It’s a complicated emotion, and it’s terribly uncomfortable. As a result, there are numerous ways we deal with grief.
For instance, it’s normal to have seasons where we totally avoid feeling grief at almost any cost. It’s part of how we cope. It’s part of how we even survive. We also have moments, days, even long seasons when it feels like we’re going to drown in our grief. It’s all we can feel, and it seems like it will never lift. Both of these have been common experiences in my life.
What I haven’t had for most of my life was the tools to actually process my grief. I guess the good news is, I’m not alone. Most of us haven’t ever been taught how to actually grieve. Think about how crazy that is! Loss is an almost daily part of life, and we’re not taught how to deal with it. Shouldn’t that be a core subject in school? Learning how to grieve would have been far more practical for my daily life than learning how to do Algebra (which I’ve never used despite all the claims my teachers and parents made).
Furthermore, if we refuse to grieve for too long, it can have significant emotional, psychological, spiritual, and even physical effects. It can lead to prolonged feelings of sadness, anger, guilt, or numbness. Suppressing grief can also manifest in physical symptoms such as headaches, fatigue, or digestive issues.
In truth, it wasn’t until my late 30s and getting into therapy that I started to learn this messy, disorienting, non-linear practice. I’m still no expert, and I still prefer to avoid grief rather than face it. But one of the unexpected motivators for me to keep facing it has been the transforming impact it has on my relationship with God. I’ve learned that grieving is a spiritual practice. The Biblical word would be “lament.”
In the Bible, lament is when people express deep sadness or sorrow to God. It's like pouring out your heart when you're really upset. People in the Bible, like King David or the prophets, often used lament when they were facing tough times or feeling overwhelmed. They'd cry out to God, asking for help or expressing their pain. Lament shows up in many parts of the Bible, especially in the Book of Psalms (See Psalm 13, Psalm 22, Psalm 42, and Psalm 88 as a starting point). It's a way for people to talk honestly with God about their struggles and find comfort and hope in difficult situations.
Despite the numerous examples of lament we see in Scripture, it’s still rarely talked about and practiced in many modern streams of faith. Instead, there's often an expectation that Christians should be happy all the time. But it’s not a sin to be sad. Even God grieves. And so must we.
If, like me, lament hasn’t been a practice in your life, I’d love to suggest a simple way to start. Obviously, this isn’t an extended treatment, nor is it all there is to say on the subject. But it’s a simple starting point, and because grief is so overwhelming, I think simplicity is essential. So here’s a simple structure for learning the spiritual practice of lament:
Acknowledge the emotion.
Awareness and acknowledgment are always the first step. We can’t experience God’s comfort if we’re unwilling to even acknowledge our pain. I’ve often found that even just acknowledging a difficult emotion can be deeply comforting.
Just last week, I was meeting with a woman in our church, and her young boys were on spring break, so they were playing in our children’s space. At one point, her youngest came into my study crying because his brother had hit him in the head with a bean bag. What struck me was that he didn’t even want his mom to do anything about it. He wasn’t asking her to intervene. He just wanted her to be aware that he was feeling hurt. I remember noting that this is all our feelings want much of the time: to be acknowledged.
So think about any loss that might be at the forefront of your mind today. What do you feel in response? Sad? Angry? Confused? Alone? Abandoned? Be strong and courageous, and acknowledge the emotion.
Admit it to God.
1 Peter 5:6-7 says, “Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God, so that he may exalt you at the proper time, casting all your cares on him, because he cares about you.” There are three things I want you to notice about these verses.
First, God cares for you. He isn’t indifferent toward your grief. He isn’t annoyed that you’re sad, and he doesn’t get frustrated when you’re angry. He cares for you. Second, His care requires that we cast our grief upon Him. We have to admit it. We have to tell Him about it. And finally, this requires humility. Pride says, “I can carry this alone. I’m strong enough to shoulder this by myself.” But the sobering reality is, you’re not. You need God’s care, so admit your grief to Him.
It doesn’t have to be fancy. You've acknowledged the emotion to yourself; now admit it to Him. “God, I’m sad. God, I’m angry. God, I feel abandoned. God, I’m disappointed.” Humble yourself and admit your grief to God.
Accept His comfort.
Psalm 34:18 says, “The Lord is near the brokenhearted; he saves those crushed in spirit.” Despite what your grief might claim, you are not alone. God is near. Furthermore, because God is omnipresent, meaning that He is always with us everywhere, this verse must mean that God is with us in a unique manner when we are brokenhearted. The question is, how can we experience His comfort?
Find a secluded place where you won’t be interrupted and get quiet for a few minutes. Take some slow breaths and do your best to be aware of God’s presence with you. Ask the Holy Spirit if there is anything He wants to say to you in your grief. Ask Him to give you an image of how He wants to comfort you. Maybe He wants to give you an image of Him embracing you or simply holding your hand. Perhaps He just wants you to see His caring face turned toward you. Simply do your best to remain open and to savor what He wants to show you or say to you.
This structure is simple, but lament is heavy and complicated. I completely understand the compulsion to avoid all this. But I also know the healing work that God wants to do as we learn to lament. I pray that you’ll give it a try and find God’s comforting presence within it.
Your love and support to help me with my own grief has been immensely impactful. This article is beautiful.
As always, this feels timely. A friend asked me, for she knows my delight in C.S. Lewis’ works, to read “A Grief Observed” while not in the season of grief. I just got Audible and I knew when I got it, “A Grief Observed” was going to be the very first book I used my very first credit for. It seems there are many tools I am to be given, and this is one of them. ☺️