Lament before gratitude
It’s Thanksgiving week in the United States! Yours might look a lot different than in years past, though. You might be observing Zoomsgiving, or you might be gathering with a much smaller group than usual because of the pandemic.
It’s hard not being able to sit around the table with our loved ones. We don’t need to gloss over that heartache. I think that in 2020 in particular, we need to lament our losses before we give genuine thanks for our blessings. Lament is different from despair, in which we stay mired in our grief. Lament is clear-eyed acknowledgement of difficulty, followed by turning our hurts over to God in the confidence that God loves and wants good for us.
A few weeks ago I led a workshop on self-care for ministers. I included lament as a part of tending to ourselves so that we can be more fully present to God and to others (emotionally, if not physically). Below is a part of a psalm, interspersed with invitations to respond.
Psalm 42:2-6 (from The Psalter, (c) 1995, Liturgy Training Publications)
As a deer craves running water,
I thirst for you, my God;
I thirst for God,
the living God.
When will I see your face?
[Name times when God has felt distant lately.]
Tears are my steady diet.
Day and night I hear,
“Where is your God?”
[Name what you have shed tears about lately.]
I cry my heart out,
I remember better days:
When I entered the house of God,
I was caught in the joyful sound
of pilgrims giving thanks.
[Name what you miss about pre-pandemic times.]
Why are you sad, my heart?
Why do you grieve?
Wait for the Lord.
[Pray for the trust and patience needed to wait on God.]
When you feel ready, pray Psalm 42:6b: “I will yet praise God my Savior.”
It is amazing to me that a psalm written so long ago speaks powerfully to our current situation. To me that means that we fall in a long lineage of others who have endured difficulty and looked for God in it. It also gives me hope that God will bring us out on the other side.
May you have a deeply meaningful Thanksgiving, whatever it looks like for you. I am sincerely grateful for who you are and what you offer to the world, especially now.
Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash.