Musings
Prayer of Lament
My prayer of lament:
There is a deep weariness my soul can’t shake.
My memories are beginning to be marked by tragedy. I’m passing time by the hardships I face. I’m losing the ability to recognize what it means to be truly healthy.
Oh, I experience healthy. I see it come to me in whispers – a brief week here or there. Just enough to remind me how wonderful ‘healthy’ is. Just enough to plant hope in my heart. And then, the betrayal happens. The next wave comes crashing down and I spiral into the depths.
Maybe it’s a legitimate illness or virus. Maybe it’s a flare up from my autoimmune diseases. Maybe it’s an accidental cross-contamination with my allergens that ignites my body into a 10-day fiery hell. Maybe it’s a surprise infection.
But it’s always Something.
I hate the Something. With each wave, I feel myself falling deeper and deeper into sorrow. God, I ache for the layers of brokenness in this world; from the macro-level sins of our culture to the micro-level corruption within my own body. I can feel the weight of a world-gone-wrong in my very bones. My spirit and my body groan together; I see very little goodness in this world.
Yet, I am reminded that apart from You, this world has no good thing. Sunshine and flowers and a warm breeze are only possible as gifts from Your hand. You even send sunshine and necessary rain on the righteous and unrighteous alike. Goodness comes from Your hand.
Which is why the wave of Yet Another Something feels like a betrayal. I see Your goodness so close and near – but am I not allowed to have it? What have I done wrong to deserve this? Is there a sin in my life, a demon to cast out, a curse to rebuke, a lesson to be learned? Do You take me back to revisit these same roads because I’m failing to grasp a larger truth?
Or worse yet – is my sickness not for me, but for someone else? For someone else to see Your glory and power and strength?
I beg with deep earnest: remove this burden from me! It is too much for me to bear!
Hindered hope rots in my bones. Delayed dreams eat at my soul. “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a desire fulfilled is a tree of life.” Is my hope wrong? To hope for health? Health to love and serve You with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength – and to have that strength be more than a faint wisp? To have the endurance to serve both my family AND my community? To be the wife and mother my family needs me to be? How can I do even these basic things when I can hardly muster the strength to prepare dinner?
Life is precious and time is finite. I feel the silent tension of being in the now, but not yet. Life doesn’t know how to pause and I see it rushing by me.
Psalm 42 comes to life before my very eyes:
My soul churns within me. Desperate for answers and petrified of what they may be. My chest heaves with emotion, yearning for rest and restoration. Tears stain my face, simultaneously consuming my appetite and feeding my heart with accusation: “Where is God’s goodness in this?”
I remember when things were better. I remember joy, and health, and sunshine. I remember being able to serve God with abandon: from missions trips, to outdoor camps, to weekly church activities, to preparing meals for a fellow worn out mom. All of this is gone; and many can’t return. I remember gladness and excitement at watching God work before my eyes. I remember – and miss them.
I dare to raise my head and ask God: “Have you forgotten me? Is there a reason life is being withheld from me?” The world stands ready to taunt me: Why even bother asking? There is no God.
But no. Even in my failing body, I will praise Him. Though my heart and flesh may fail, I will seek His goodness. “Let my sighs give way to songs that sing about Your faithfulness. Let my pain reveal Your glory as my only true rest. Let my losses show me all I truly have is You.” (ref)
O, my weary soul: do not be downcast or disturbed about pain. Do not be destroyed by sickness. Do not let despair cause turmoil. Do not dwell on your weakened body. Hope in God. Praise Him again – my rescue, my salvation, my rock.
