The Gift of Lament: How to Process Grief Biblically
ARTICLE • In our fallen world, grief is inevitable. But lingering, unprocessed grief shrivels the soul (Prov 17:22). Can our sorrows be transformed from dead ends into gateways to God? Scripture’s Psalms of Lament both model and guide us to grieve honestly, faithfully, and effectively. Biblical lament is God’s gift for healing broken hearts.
Read time: 27 min
Contents
Why Lament Matters
Grief is more than a passing human emotion. It’s tempting to reduce deep hurt to a fleeting emotional experience—something to be stuffed, escaped, or simply waited out. But Scripture teaches us that both the wrong grief (2 Cor 7:10) and the right grief handled wrongly (Eccl 2:17; 1 Thes 4:13) produce despair. Pain is a venom or an anti-venom, depending how one processes it with God.
Grief is always theological because it always raises questions about God’s goodness, watchcare, and nearness. And it is always spiritual because it always draws us either toward or away from trust in and love for God.
Lament Gives Voice to Grief
Biblical lament is the language of faithful suffering. Without it, grief either has no voice (Ps 32:3–4) or merely vents complaint without resolution (Eccl 2:20–21). In a world wrecked by sin, lament is how God helps his children grieve well. Unlike silence or stoicism, lament gives permission to speak honestly. Unlike despair or bitterness, lament does not let go of God. It wrestles. It pleads. It remembers. It waits. And in doing so, it keeps us near to the One who is “our only hope in life and death” (Heidelberg Catechism, Q1).
The Church’s Lost Language
Tragically, lament is often missing from the modern church. We sing songs of triumph and preach sermons of victory, yet we neglect the sacred practice of praying our pain. Most believers don’t know how to express grief biblically, so they either suppress it or spiritualize it away. But the Bible does not avoid suffering. It gives us psalms of lament, an entire book of Lamentations, the groanings of Job, the raw confessions of Paul, and even the cries of Jesus on the cross. Lament is not a detour but a path through grief into deeper trust.
What Does it Mean to “Process” Grief Biblically?” Grief
Grief is the soul’s protest against our fallen world not being as it should be. It is the pain we feel when something precious is withheld or taken away—death, betrayal, suffering, injustice, or a dream dashed by disappointment. In the biblical worldview, grief is not abnormal; it is the expected consequence of living in a world fractured by sin and the curse of death. When Adam and Eve fell, grief entered human history. And from that moment, tears have marked the path of every person east of Eden.
Not all grief is the same. Some experience acute grief through sudden tragedy; others endure chronic grief through lingering illness, broken relationships, or the loss of longed-for hopes. Whatever form it takes, grief is not simply emotional. It is inescapably tethered to how we perceive God, ourselves, others, and the larger story in which we live.
Secular Versus Biblical Grief Models
Modern psychologists have proposed various models for processing grief. The most popular include stage-based theories like Kübler-Ross’s five stages (i.e., denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance), as well as Stroebe & Schut's Dual Process Model, which views grieving as oscillating between confronting the loss and adapting to life after loss.
While these models offer insight into common emotional responses to hardship, they lack a redemptive framework. They address symptoms but not the soul. They aim for emotional integration—returning to “normal” functioning, reducing symptoms, adapting to the loss. Even if such aims bring a measure of relief, they fall short of a central purpose of God in suffering: the glory of God in the reformation of our hearts. They offer coping strategies without guiding sufferers to meaning, transformation, or communion with our sovereign Comforter (2 Cor 1:3–7).
From a biblical perspective, “processing grief” does not mean simply learning to live without what was lost but learning to walk with God through sorrow, bringing our pain to him, and allowing our suffering to deepen our faith, hope, and dependence on his character and promises.
To process grief biblically is to say with the psalmist, “My tears have been my food day and night . . .. Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation” (Ps 42:3–5). Grief is not something we can or should merely escape. It’s a path to be walked by faith with God.
Defining Lament
Lament Is Sorrow Addressed to God
Lament is one of the Bible’s most surprising and neglected spiritual practices. It is the form grief takes when it moves toward God rather than away from him. At its core, lament is the honest, God-directed cry of a heart that believes God is still listening, even when he feels absent. It is not mere sadness or introspective brooding. It is not merely an emotional dump for the sake of catharsis. It is sorrow that speaks to the only One who can actually do something with it.
Lament is marked by boldness and brokenness. The psalmists say things that make modern readers uncomfortable: “Why, O Lord, do you stand far away?” (Ps 10:1); “How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?” (Ps 13:1). But in context, these are not the words of unbelief. They are the words of covenantal relationship. Lament assumes this relationship. It prays from within the bond of belonging.
Lament Appeals to God’s Character
It is essential to distinguish biblical lament from ungodly complaint. Israel grumbled in the wilderness because they had hardened their hearts and presumed the worst about God (Exod 17:2–3). Their complaints slandered his character. Lament, on the other hand, appeals to his character. The psalmist may feel abandoned, but he still calls God “my God.” He still pleads for mercy based on past faithfulness. Where complaint accuses, lament questions but clings.
Lament is covenantal prayer. It arises from a heart that knows God is righteous, merciful, sovereign, and good—even when we feel otherwise. It dares to bring questions, confusion, and pain into God’s presence, not to test him but to trust him. Lament holds grief in one hand and hope in the other.
Common Misunderstandings and Objections
“Shouldn’t we just trust God and move on?”
This objection misunderstands what trust really looks like in the midst of suffering. Trust is not pretending to be okay when we are not—“mind over matter” or the “power of positive thinking.” Trust is turning to God with what is real, not just what is pretty. Lament is not the opposite of trust. It’s one of its most courageous forms. The one who laments faithfully is one who refuses to walk away from God.
“Isn’t it unspiritual to express anger or confusion to God?”
Many believers fear that voicing hard emotions to God dishonors him. But Scripture is filled with Spirit-inspired examples of just that. The psalmists express fear, despair, frustration, and longing, all within the context of reverent prayer. God is not fragile. He invites our honesty. He even knows what we need before we ask (Matt 6:8). Our Father would rather receive an honest cry than sullen, avoidant, false composure.
“Isn’t it insecure to pray when I don’t feel like praying at all?”
Lament does not wait until one feels close to God. It’s a path back to him when we feel far away. Writing a lament when you feel spiritually numb is an act of raw faith. It says, “I will bring my silence, my ache, my questions, and my confusion to my God.”
A Brief Theology of Lament
Lament Is Active Relationship
In seasons of sorrow, lament is central to the Christian life. Scripture is replete with voices crying out in pain, confusion, and question, not because they have abandoned belief but precisely because they remain in relationship with God. As many of the psalms show, lament is worshipful speech that presumes a covenant bond. “How long, O Lord?” is not the question of the apostate but the cry of a child who still calls on his Father in the dark. A prayer of lament assumes God’s presence not his absence. It refuses to sever the bond, even when the heart is breaking.
Lament Is Honest Grief
Lament gives language to the raw experiences of living in a fallen world. Since Eden, creation groans, and so do God’s people (Rom 8:22–23). Scripture never invites believers to sanitize their sorrow. Instead, lament gives form to the disorientation we feel between God’s promises and our present pain. Whether facing betrayal, disease, death, or injustice, lament enables us to name what is wrong without denying God’s goodness. It affirms that faith can coexist with anguish, that belief does not require pretending.
Lament Is Holy Protest
In contrast to passive resignation or acceptance, biblical lament is an act of holy defiance. When the psalmist pleads, “Rise up; come to our help!” (Ps 44:26), or demands, “Why do you hide your face?” (Ps 44:24), it is not faithlessness but faith-in-action. His protests are grounded in God’s covenant character. Lament is a form of protest against evil that refuses to let sin, suffering, or silence have the final word. It draws strength not from self-pity but from belief that God hears, sees, and acts on our behalf.
Lament Is Soul Formation
Lament is deeply formative and profoundly therapeutic. It carves a path through sorrow that ultimately leads back to hope. The laments of Scripture often end not with clear answers but with renewed trust in the God in the dark: “But I have trusted in your steadfast love,” penned the psalmist; “My heart shall rejoice in your salvation” (Ps 13:5). Lament trains and habituates the soul to cling not to immediate relief but to the God who keeps covenant love even when his providence perplexes us. It cultivates humility, endurance, and worship rooted more in God's character than in our clarity.
Lament Is Hope in Christ
The incarnate Christ himself stands as both model and mediator of our lament. When Jesus cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matt 27:46), he had taken on the full weight of our grief (Is 53:4). He did not bypass grief. He redeemed it. The cross is where divine lament reached its loudest pitch, and the resurrection was God’s answer. Jesus not only showed us how to lament—he assured us that our laments are never wasted. In him, every groan will one day give way to glory. Until then, lament is the honest, hopeful, and holy speech of those who dare to trust the God who weeps with us and who will, at last, wipe every tear from our eyes.
How Lament Reorients Our Grief
Lament Guards Our Souls Against Bitterness
Grief has a way of bending us inward. Left unexamined and unspoken, it becomes a self-contained loop of silence, isolation, and eventual bitterness. Without verbal lament, grief subtly produces resentment toward God, ourselves, others, and life itself. We begin to assume God is distant, indifferent, or even cruel. We begin to think we’re being punished and forsaken. We begin to envy others who are not going through our own species of suffering. And we begin seeing life itself as hostile and hopeless.
Lament disrupts this inevitable trajectory. It takes the internal monologue of despair and redirects it vertically. And in doing so, it transforms what would destroy us into a deeper encounter with and trust in our gracious God.
Lament Reshapes False Beliefs about God
In the shadows of disappointment and loss, demonic lies about God often take root: “God doesn’t care.” “He’s punishing me.” “He’s abandoned me.” “My life is over.” These are common assumptions of grieving people. Lament provides a way to voice such fears and hurts honestly while staying anchored to God’s Word. The lament psalms frequently begin with despair but move toward remembrance. The psalmists recall God’s past faithfulness, rehearse his promises, and invite their hearts to trust and hope in God afresh. Lament is a spiritual defibrillator, shocking our quivering souls out of false perceptions and back into God’s covenantal reality.
Lament Matures Faith
Grief need not lead to cynicism or despair. In God’s hands, grief becomes a crucible for deeper spiritual maturity. Through lament, we pull the weeds of reliance on our own understanding and cultivate dependance on the sustaining mercy of God. Weeping meets prayer. Weakness becomes worship. The Christian who laments grows—because by it we are carried into the presence of God, where true healing begins.
Paul describes this progressive maturing process in this way:
“We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us” (Rom 5:3–5).
James agrees:
“Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing” (Jam 1:2–4).
The Psalms of Lament: A Library for Sorrow and Hope
The book of Psalms is a poetic hymnbook inspired by God to give images and voice to every joyful and painful experience common to humans. Remarkably, nearly one-third of the psalms are laments. And these psalms do not sanitize griefs or resolve them too quickly. They linger in sorrow for season, wrestle with God, cry for justice, mourn loss, and yet—again and again—choose to speak to God rather than walk away from him. These laments meet us in particular moments of sorrow with particular words of faith.
The 62 Psalms of Lament include individual laments—Psalms 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 9, 10, 13, 14, 17, 22, 25, 26, 27, 28, 31, 32, 38, 39, 40:12–17, 41, 42, 43, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 59, 61, 64, 69, 70, 71, 77, 86, 88, 102, 109, 120, 130, 139, 140, 141, 142, and 143—and communal laments—Psalms 12, 44, 58, 60, 74, 79, 80, 83, 85, 89, 90, 94, 106, 123, 126, 129, and 137.
Suggested Laments for Particular Griefs
Note: The suggested lament psalms and accompanying passages below are not necessarily written about the specific category of loss but are chosen because their themes and language resonate with the particular experiences of sorrow.
1. Death of a loved one
Psalms: 6, 22, 31, 116, 39, 88, 90, 141
Non-Psalm Laments: John 11:21–27, Job 1:20–21
Gospel Hope: 1 Thess. 4:13–18; Rev. 21:4
2. Miscarriage or stillbirth
Psalms: 13, 71, 77, 88, 70, 142
Non-Psalm Laments: 2 Kgs. 4:27–37
Gospel Hope: Ps. 139:13–16; Isa. 49:15; 2 Sam. 12:23
3. Divorce, breakup, betrayal, or family conflict
Psalms: 41, 55, 109, 31, 6, 3
Non-Psalm Laments: Jer. 20:7–13
Gospel Hope: Heb. 13:5; Rom. 8:35–39; Isa. 54:5
4. Loss of a child
Psalms: 6, 38, 42, 143, 77, 126
Non-Psalm Laments: 2 Sam. 12:15–23
Gospel Hope: Rom. 8:18; Matt. 19:14; Rev. 21:4
5. Loss of health (chronic pain, illness, depression, etc.)
Psalms: 6, 38, 39, 42, 43, 102, 88
Non-Psalm Laments: 2 Cor. 12:7–10
Gospel Hope: 2 Cor. 4:16–18; Rev. 21:4–5; Rom. 5:3–5
6. Loss of job, stability, or financial security
Psalms: 56, 64, 140, 37, 54, 127
Non-Psalm Laments: Hab. 3:17–19
Gospel Hope: Matt. 6:25–34; Phil. 4:19; Ps. 23:1
7. Loss of home, displacement, or relocation
Psalms: 42, 74, 120, 137, 60, 123
Non-Psalm Laments: Lam. 3:21–26
Gospel Hope: John 14:1–3; Heb. 11:13–16; Ps. 90:1
8. Infertility or inability to conceive
Psalms: 13, 25, 77, 71, 86
Non-Psalm Laments: 1 Sam. 1:9–18
Gospel Hope: Ps. 113:9; Isa. 54:1; Rom. 8:32
9. Loss of a dream, purpose, or life direction
Psalms: 39, 77, 90, 102, 89
Non-Psalm Laments: 1 Kgs. 19:1–18
Gospel Hope: Prov. 3:5–6; Rom. 8:28; Eph. 2:10
10. Loss of reputation or public respect
Psalms: 31, 35, 69, 109, 26
Non-Psalm Laments: Jer. 15:15–21
Gospel Hope: 1 Pet. 2:4; Luke 6:22–23; Phil. 2:5–11
11. Loss of community, church, or support system
Psalms: 60, 74, 79, 80, 83, 85, 123, 129
Non-Psalm Laments: Ezra 9:5–15
Gospel Hope: Acts 2:42–47; Heb. 10:23–25; John 14:18
12. Spiritual abandonment, numbness, or crisis of faith
Psalms: 13, 22, 42, 43, 77, 88, 130, 143
Non-Psalm Laments: Mark 15:34; Hab. 1:2–5
Gospel Hope: Rom. 8:26–27; Heb. 4:15–16; Isa. 42:3
13. Loss of independence or aging decline
Psalms: 61, 71, 140, 143, 102
Non-Psalm Laments: Eccl. 12:1–7
Gospel Hope: Isa. 46:4; Ps. 92:12–15; 2 Cor. 4:16
14. Grief over personal sin or moral failure
Psalms: 32, 38, 51, 130, 25
Non-Psalm Laments: Luke 22:61–62; Ezra 10:1
Gospel Hope: 1 John 1:9; Rom. 5:8; Ps. 103:10–12
15. Grief from injustice, violence, or persecution
Psalms: 10, 35, 58, 94, 140, 69, 5, 12
Non-Psalm Laments: Acts 4:23–31; Rev. 6:9–11
Gospel Hope: Rom. 12:19–21; Rev. 6:9–11; 1 Pet. 3:14
16. Grief due to addiction (self or loved one)
Psalms: 40, 64, 69, 102, 143, 70
Non-Psalm Laments: Rom. 7:15–25
Gospel Hope: Titus 2:11–14; 1 Cor. 6:9–11; Rom. 6:6–14
17. Societal or national tragedy
Psalms: 44, 74, 79, 80, 83, 85, 90, 129
Non-Psalm Laments: Joel 1:13–20; Dan. 9:4–19
Gospel Hope: Isa. 9:6–7; Hab. 2:14; Rev. 11:15
18. Loss of innocence, safety, or childhood trust
Psalms: 7, 10, 55, 59, 140, 17
Non-Psalm Laments: Gen. 21:15–19; 2 Sam. 13:19–20
Gospel Hope: Ps. 34:18; Zeph. 3:17; Rom. 8:15
19. Loss of meaning, joy, or will to live
Psalms: 39, 77, 89, 90, 143, 142
Non-Psalm Laments: Jonah 2; Job 3 (with 19:25–27)
Gospel Hope: John 10:10; Rom. 15:13; 2 Cor. 1:8–10
How to Write Your Prayer of Lament: Four Biblical Moves
While biblical laments are not rigidly formulaic, many of them follow a recognizable pattern. This structure is not a straitjacket but a guide, a scaffold for the soul when grief makes everything feel formless. It offers movement through sorrow, not away from it. It slows us down and invites us to sit honestly in the tension while still moving toward hope.
The C.A.R.E. Model of Biblical Lament
Most biblical laments follow four primary movements: turn to God, bring the complaint, ask for help, and express trust—summarized with the acrostic C.A.R.E.: Cry out to God, Articulate your pain, Request His help, and Express your trust and hope in his character and promises.
Most believers have never written or prayed a lament. The very idea can feel intimidating or unnatural, especially in the fog of grief. But the practice of writing a lament is not for the polished or poetic. It’s for the weary, the confused, and the wounded. It is for those who believe but hurt, who trust but tremble. Writing a lament is not about performance but honesty before our God who cares deeply for us and provides a way out (1 Pet 5:6–7; 1 Cor 10:13).
1. Cry out to God
Lament begins with a deliberate decision to turn toward God in our pain. This is covenantal faith in action. When we cry out, we acknowledge God’s presence, even in our confusion. Rather than poking a voodoo doll, snapping at others, venting into the void, or stewing in silent sorrow, we direct our cry to the Lord. Psalm 13 opens, “How long, O Lord?” with a declaration that even unanswered prayers are still prayers of faith. Begin by anchoring your lament in God’s unchanging relationship to you:
O Shepherd of my soul, ...
My faithful Redeemer, …
My Father who sees me, …
O God of my aching heart, …
My Refuge in the storm, …
Dear Lord, you who never slumbers or sleeps, …
My Rock when I’m sinking, …
Healer of my broken spirit, …
My Light in the darkness, …
Father of mercies and God of all comfort, …
2. Articulate Your Pain
Next, biblical lament gives voice to the grief, confusion, pain, and injustice we experience. This is about raw honesty. “Why have you forsaken me?” and “How long will you hide your face?” are the soul’s way of saying, “This hurts.” Say what was lost. Say how it feels. Don’t sanitize it: “Lord, I feel like you’ve left me in the dark.” These cries are not accusations but articulation of a faith that refuse to ignore the brokenness while bringing it to God.
I’ve lost someone I prayed you would heal. I feel forgotten, like you’ve turned away and left me alone. “How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?” (Ps 13:1).
My marriage feels broken beyond repair. I can’t stop crying. My pain follows me into the night. “I am weary with my moaning; every night I flood my bed with tears.” (Ps 6:6).
My child has turned away from you, and it’s tearing me apart. When I need you most, you feel absent. Why don’t you show up? “Why, O Lord, do you stand far away? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?” (Ps 10:1).
Since the funeral, I can’t eat or think straight—grief is all I know. “My tears have been my food day and night.” (Ps 42:3).
I’m suffocating under the weight of depression and unanswered prayers. “All your waves and your billows have gone over me.” (Ps 42:7).
A friend I trusted turned against me, and now I feel invisible and discarded. “I am forgotten like a dead man, out of mind.” (Ps 31:12).
After everything fell apart, it’s like I’m trapped in a dark cave with no way out. “You have put me in the depths of the pit, in the regions dark and deep.” (Ps 88:6).
I’ve begged for answers, but the silence is crushing. Do you even see me? “Why do you hide your face and forget our affliction and oppression?” (Ps 44:24).
This illness is draining me—I have no strength, no appetite, no hope. “My heart is struck down like grass and has withered; I forget to eat my bread.” (Ps 102:4).
The conflict in my family is too much to carry. I feel abandoned and overwhelmed. “I am lonely and afflicted. The troubles of my heart are enlarged.” (Ps 25:16–17).
My addiction has cost me so much. Even the people who love me are pulling away. “You have made my companions shun me; you have made me a horror to them.” (Ps 88:8).
I don’t feel alive anymore. It’s like the light inside me is dying. “My soul is full of troubles, and my life draws near to Sheol.” (Ps 88:3).
My emotions are a storm—I can’t even name what’s going on inside me. “Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me?” (Ps 42:5).
I don’t even know what to say anymore. I’m just laying it all before you. “I pour out my complaint before him; I tell my trouble before him.” (Ps 142:2).
3. Request God’s help
Worldly sorrow ends in complaint, resignation, and acceptance. But biblical lament doesn’t. It pleads for God to act. “Answer me,” “Restore us,” “Remember your covenant.” These petitions are grounded not in entitlement but in God’s compassion, justice, and steadfast love in Jesus Christ, given to us by God’s Spirit through God’s Word in community with God’s people. When you ask for comfort, strength, or guidance, you are depending not on yourself or a therapeutic process but on your Father who hears and helps. What do you want God to do? Ask boldly:
Help me believe that you’re still with me. “Be not far from me, for trouble is near, and there is none to help” (Ps 22:11).
Give me strength to face this day. “Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am languishing; heal me, O Lord, for my bones are troubled” (Ps 6:2).
Restore joy to my soul. “Make me hear joy and gladness; let the bones that you have broken rejoice” (Ps 51:8).
Teach me to fear you more than people. “When I am afraid, I put my trust in you” (Ps 56:3).
Heal my heart from betrayal. “But I call to God, and the Lord will save me” (Ps 55:16).
Wash me clean and lift my shame. “Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin” (Ps 51:2).
Break the grip of bitterness. “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me” (Ps 51:10).
Come near in my sorrow. “Turn to me and be gracious to me, for I am lonely and afflicted” (Ps 25:16).
Act, Lord—don’t delay. “Make haste to help me, O Lord, my salvation” (Ps 38:22).
Shine light into this darkness. “Send out your light and your truth; let them lead me” (Ps 43:3).
Set me free from temptation. “Let not the flood sweep over me, or the deep swallow me up” (Ps 69:15).
Remind me you have not forgotten me. “You who have done great things, O God, who is like you?” (Ps 71:19).
Redeem what feels wasted. “Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us, and establish the work of our hands” (Ps 90:17).
Let me see your goodness again. “Let me hear in the morning of your steadfast love, for in you I trust” (Ps 143:8).
Speak when I have no words. “Incline your ear to me; rescue me speedily” (Ps 31:2).
Silence my fears with your truth. “Lead me, O Lord, in your righteousness... make your way straight before me” (Ps 5:8).
Satisfy me with your presence. “Let the light of your face shine on us, O Lord” (Ps 4:6).
Sustain me until you lift this burden. “Uphold me according to your promise, that I may live” (Ps 119:116).
4. Express Your Trust and Hope
Even if your emotions haven’t yet caught up, reaffirm some truth about who God is. “But I trust in your steadfast love” (Ps 13:5). Sometimes the trust is confident. Other times, it’s a faint whisper. But ending your lament with even the smallest ember of faith trains your heart to hope. “You are still faithful.” “I believe you will restore.” “Your mercy never ends.” Your written lament is your spiritual altar. It may not change your circumstances, but it will change how you carry them—not apart from but with your all-wise, all-loving, and all-powerful Heavenly Father.
Lord, I don’t feel it yet, but I choose to trust your love won’t let me go—“I have trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation” (Ps 13:5).
Even when I can’t see your hand, I believe you’re close—“You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book?” (Ps 56:8).
I’ve been numb for so long, but I still believe that joy is possible again—“You have turned for me my mourning into dancing” (Ps 30:11).
I’m scared of what people think, but I choose to rest in your protection—“In God I trust; I shall not be afraid. What can man do to me?” (Ps 56:11).
You are my shield, even when I feel exposed and weak—“But you, O Lord, are a shield about me, my glory, and the lifter of my head” (Ps 3:3).
My sins feel overwhelming, but I believe your mercy is greater—“For you, O Lord, are good and forgiving, abounding in steadfast love to all who call upon you” (Ps 86:5).
Even death can’t separate me from your love—“Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints” (Ps 116:15).
I’m crushed and don’t know how to breathe, but I know you’re close—“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit” (Ps 34:18).
I feel like giving up, but I will keep waiting on you—“Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!” (Ps 27:14).
Even when my world feels pitch black, you still see me—“Even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day” (Ps 139:12).
I feel like I’m drowning, but I know you will lift me up—“He reached down from on high and took hold of me; he drew me out of deep waters” (Ps 18:16).
It feels like I’ve been forgotten, but your promises say otherwise—“Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God” (Ps 42:5).
I feel invisible, but I believe you know me deeply—“You have seen my affliction; you have known the distress of my soul” (Ps 31:7).
You are still good, even when life is not—“I will rejoice and be glad in your steadfast love, because you have seen my affliction” (Ps 31:7).
I’m overwhelmed and lost, but you see every step I take—“When my spirit faints within me, you know my way!” (Ps 142:3).
Your Word is my lifeline—I will cling to it through the silence—“Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord… I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word I hope” (Ps 130:1,5).
You know exactly what I’m going through—I’m not alone—“You have kept my life from the pit of destruction… for you have cast all my sins behind your back” (Ps 86:13).
My life still matters, even in the mess—“You have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling” (Ps 116:8).
Hope Beyond Lament
Lament is not our destination. It’s our journey to resurrection hope. The story God is writing in our lives is not yet complete. Lament is our "prayer in the meantime," the sacred space between the pain of what is and the joy of what will be. For the believer, sorrow is real yet it is not ultimate. God welcomes our sorrow and tears, but he doesn’t leave us indefinitely in them either. The arc of lament bends toward the restoration of our souls to faith, hope, and love. Every cry of “How long, O Lord?” carries within it a seed of hope. And Scripture assures us that this confidence in God’s character and his promises guaranteed in Jesus, in the end, will never put us to shame (Rom 5:5).
A Cloudless Day is Coming
First Thessalonians 4:13 reminds us that Christians can grieve differently than those without hope. Our hope is not in our circumstances returning to “normal.” It is in our crucified and resurrected Savior, who is making all things new. The same Jesus who lamented on the cross now reigns in glory and will return to undo our every sorrow. This is the great reversal. For those of us who put our trust in Christ, the final end of our stories is unimaginable glory.
In Revelation 21:4, God himself promises to one day wipe away every tear from our eyes. Death will be no more. Mourning will cease. Pain will be eclipsed by joy, and death swallowed up in victory. Our cries of lament will one day give way to songs of deliverance. This is not escapism—it’s eschatological certainty! It’s taking God at his word.
Biblical lament teaches us how to live in this already-promised-but-not-yet-realied tension in life. And even now, he gives us the Spirit as a guarantee that our groaning is not in vain (Rom 8:23–26).
Until that day, we lament. We cry, we wait, we confess, we worship. And in our grief, we bear witness—not only to the pain of a broken world, but to the hope of our coming King. Christ’s promise is certain: "Surely I am coming soon." And in faith we respond again and again, “Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.” ❖
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Footnote: Timothy J. Harris, “The Gift of Lament: How to Process Grief Biblically,” Practical Theologian, August 3, 2025, https://www.practicaltheologian.com/blog/article-z9dtw-69b3c-k7cjb.
Bibliography: Harris, Timothy J. “The Gift of Lament: How to Process Grief Biblically.” Practical Theologian, August 3, 2025. https://www.practicaltheologian.com/blog/article-z9dtw-69b3c-k7cjb.
For Further Reading
Articles
“Learning to Lament: A Guide to Praying in Our Hardest Moments,” by Mitch Everingham
“How to Cry Out to God: the 4 Steps of Lament,” by The Disciplemaker
“Power in Lament Prayer,” by Brooklyn Cox
“Five Things to Know About Lament,” by Glenn Packiam
Books
Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy: Discovering the Grace of Lament, by Mark Vroegop
God's Grace in Your Suffering, by David Powlison
How Long, O Lord? Reflections on Suffering and Evil, by D.A. Carson (see my book review here).
Suffering: Gospel Hope When Life Doesn't Make Sense, by Paul David Tripp
