Faithfulness in the Midst of Lament
Sometimes life brings us to tears. The cries of scripture remind us of this; prayers born out of devastation, words soaked in grief, anger, and even rage at injustice. These voices are not foreign to us; they echo in our own hearts when we see the brokenness of the world, or when our own lives are turned
upside down. What matters is not whether we feel sorrow or anger, that is part of being human. What matters is what we do with those feelings, and whether we dare to bring them before God.
Lament is not a failure of faith but an expression of it. To cry out in sorrow or frustration is to say, “God, I know you are there, and I long for your justice and your healing.” In the honesty of lament, we find the seeds of faithfulness. Even when we rage against what has gone wrong, we are still reaching toward the One who hears us.
But lament is not the whole story. Alongside the tears runs another current: the call to endure, to persevere, to speak out when we witness injustice, to hold fast to the treasures of
faith that have been entrusted to us. Many of us can name a parent, grandparent, teacher, or friend who helped nurture our faith when we were young. That gift, handed down in
simple prayers, patient love, or steadfast witness, carries us when we cannot find the strength on our own. The Holy Spirit rekindles what was planted in us long ago, reminding us that faith is never ours to make alone.
The grace in this process is that we are not alone. We don’t need to have everything figured out. Jesus says that even faith the size of a mustard seed can move mountains. The
little we can muster: a whispered prayer, a small act of kindness, a willingness to keep showing up, is enough. God takes what is small and hidden and allows it to grow beyond
what we can see.
This is where lament, perseverance, and faith meet. We weep honestly for what is broken, and
in the same breath we hold on, even if only by a thread, trusting that God is still at work. We
inherit a faith that carried others through their trials, and in turn, we pass it on, not
necessarily by grand gestures, but by the daily, sometimes unseen, work of love.
Maybe that is the invitation for this week: not to deny lament, but to embrace it as prayer. Not
to strive for perfect faith, but to persevere in trust, however fragile it feels. Not to wait for
great acts, but to live faithfully in the small ones, acts that may, in the mystery of God’s grace,
bear fruit we cannot yet see.
Where do you find yourself in this story? Are you lamenting, persevering, sowing tiny seeds of
faith, or all of these at once? However you arrive, know this: God receives it all, and God is
faithful.
Kevin+
