A lament

 I find myself overwhelmed of late - with sorrow, anger, and confusion as I try to engage with some of the injustice in our world. I wrote a lament as a way to process and offer it here in the hopes it might comfort, afflict or inspire.

The writings of theologian Walter Bruegeemann have been especially helpful I am trying to move through these times without losing my faith and instead find hope and meaning. In Journey to the Common Good where he is examining the text of Isaiah there are some especially profound and relevant insights about grief, lament and hope.

“Grief insists, but it does not know what comes next. It waits, but only after it has had its say. . . the hard, painful, preparatory work of loss and grief [that] makes hope possible.”

While it seemed kind of a hopeless task to simply write out my grief about and try to find points of light it also felt necessary and important for me. In this I also found an insight from Brueggemann that named, better than I could, why such writing might be valuable– “the poem is only a poem. It does not accomplish anything metaphysical. It is a bid for imagination. It bids displaced people to host possibility.” In identifying my grief, lamenting and professing hope I am naming the reality I am experiencing, why it is so discordant with what I know to be God’s vision for us all and trying to imagine a way to something better.

I grieve

                        Pleas echoing on chipped tile floors asking

                                    Where is my husband?

                                    How can I make my children feel safe?

                                    Who will help?

I grieve

                        Weary faces and tear-filled eyes of those too few carrying this burden

                                    Because they must

                                    Because they choose to walk alongside

            Because they cannot imagine leaving it for those on whom it has been                    unjustly placed

I grieve

Children bearing the heavy weight of choices they did not make

fear and necessity being the deciders now

I grieve

                        holding my sobbing child unable to answer her

                                    Why did they take him?

                                    Why are my friends not safe?

                                    Is anyone safe?

                                    What can I do?

                                    What can you do?

                                    Why is the world this way?

I lament

            the silence of those

                        With privilege

                        With power

                        With the name of Jesus on their lips

                        Of me

                                  When I can’t be bothered

                                  When I am afraid

When I don't know what to say or do

When I am overwhelmed

I lament

the indifference of my brothers and sisters in faith. I am tired of fighting

                        Without them

                        Against them

 I lament

            the lack of moral courage and imagination which led us here

                        To see and take a different path than that demanded by

                                    Christian nationalism

                                    White supremacy

                                    Rampant materialism

                                    Mindless xenophobia

                                    Reckless individualism

                        To stop the terror

                                              hate

                                              cruelty for cruelty’s sake

                        To build a world where everyone can thrive

                                                                 enough is enough

                                                                        both in the having and the doing

I hope because I see, I hear, I know

Brave people

standing in gaps

bending the moral arc of the universe

            it will not curve on its own

proclaiming – here I am send me

boldly walking the Jericho road looking for neighbors

to help

to love

  to serve

                                                holding signs and candles in parks and parking lots saying we are here

                                                                                      we see what they are doing to you

                                                                                      what power we have we offer

                                                                                      this is not okay

                                                delivering food, hugs and news

                                                standing in doorways barring entry and on roadways recording atrocities

                                                                                                bearing witness

hands reaching

arms holding

voices rising

prayers shouting

I hope because

                                    They are here

                                               keep going

                                                    not enough

                                                            but

the Lord heals the brokenhearted    

and binds up their wounds.

He determines the number of the stars; he gives to all of them their names. Great is our Lord and abundant in power; his understanding is beyond measure. The Lord lifts up the downtrodden.   

Grieving, lamenting, hoping and praying

I am brave and wise enough to

stand where the Lord calls me  

    speak his love in the face of hate

    shine his light when darkness overwhelms

Lord, hear our prayers.