Pt. 7 - The Story After the Lament
LAMENT FINDS ITS FULLEST EXPRESSION IN COMMUNITY, WHERE OUR SHARED PAIN IS HELD IN THE LIGHT OF A HOPE THAT IS RESILIENT, NOT SIMPLISTIC.
WHAT TO DO AFTER YOU WRITE "AMEN"
You’ve written down your pain. You’ve been honest. Now what? The psalmists show us that the goal of lament is not to stay stuck in pain, but to move through it with honesty. A written lament is a memorial.
It marks a time when you told the truth.
Once you've done that, it might be time now to re-orient yourself to the present and connect your story to God's, if it feels right to you now.
If you have a bible, or want to look up the following psalms online, they will give powerful context to what this means.
THE PSALMS’ EXAMPLE OF MOVING THROUGH LAMENT WITH HONESTY
Holding pain and hope together (Psalm 13): This short, raw psalm moves from the depths of despair ("How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?") to a powerful declaration of trust ("But I trust in your unfailing love"). The psalmist gets no immediate answer, but after voicing his complaint and petition, he chooses to anchor himself in the truth of God's character. After we write, reading a psalm like this reminds us we can hold both our honest pain and a resilient hope at the same time.
Gaining a new perspective (Psalm 73): The writer of this psalm is in a crisis of faith, consumed with envy at the prosperity of the wicked. His lament is a raw confession of his confusion and bitterness. His turning point comes when he enters "the sanctuary of God" (v. 17) and sees a bigger story. Our writing practice can be a "sanctuary." After writing our pain, we can consciously ask God for a wider perspective, trusting that our story of suffering is not the final word.
Looking back with gratitude (Psalm 18): This psalm is a powerful look back at a past season of lament. David begins, "I love you, Lord, my strength," and then recounts the terror he felt: "The cords of death entangled me... In my distress I called to the Lord" (v. 4-6). Your written laments can become your own personal versions of Psalm 18. In the future, you can look back on them not to re-live the pain, but to see where and how God met you. They become a testament to your resilience and God's faithfulness, integrating your story of grief into a larger story of deliverance.
PRACTICE: A CLOSING RITUAL
This practice is designed to be done after you have written a lament, using the four-part structure from our last session.
Read your lament aloud (optional): If it feels safe, read the words you wrote in a quiet voice. Let your own ears hear your honest prayer. Then, you might read a psalm like Psalm 13 aloud, joining your voice with the ancient story of faith.
A moment of gratitude: After the lament, shift your focus. Say, out loud or in your journal: "For this one thing, I am grateful today: _________." This isn't to negate your pain, but to practice holding both grief and gratitude. Think of it as a small, personal version of Psalm 18, looking back on even the smallest deliverance of the day.
Engage your senses: Put your journal down. Pick up an object near you. Notice its texture, its temperature, its weight. Or, look out a window and notice the details of a tree. Root yourself firmly in the present, just as the writer of Psalm 73 was rooted in the present reality of the sanctuary.
Speak a blessing: End your time with a word of blessing for yourself. You can use this one, or your own:
May I be gentle with myself today. May I know that my honesty is an act of faith. May I rest in the truth that I am held. Amen.
REFLECTION
What part of the "closing ritual" felt most helpful or resonant for you?
After exploring Psalms 13, 18, and 73, how does seeing these honest struggles and resolutions in scripture change how you view your own lament writing?
What is one practical way you can incorporate this gentle practice into your life when you notice feelings of grief or frustration arising?