Artwork

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Reflections on Lament

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“You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand there are pleasures forevermore.” Psalm 16:11

“You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand there are pleasures forevermore.” Psalm 16:11

During Lent this year, our church* has been gathering together (via Zoom) to “practice lament”. This is an intimidating idea to most people: gathering with others with the sole purpose of being sad together. (Letting ourselves be sad when we’re alone is scary enough!) It sounds completely outside our comfort zones and honestly, maybe, rather pointless. Why should we just take time to be sad? And why magnify the sadness by hearing about everyone else’s?

But surprisingly that’s not what happens. The sadness doesn’t feel magnified. And suddenly we don’t feel so alone. 

I am not a pastor or a leader of these groups. I am a participant, and in speaking to other participants I’ve heard things like “I feel so heard”, “I feel so connected to the community”, “I feel hopeful and safe here.” To hear these statements, a year after the world fell apart, and during/after a gathering on lament, is absolutely profound. 

Our pastor often talks about lament being God’s good gift to us in our healing journey. “Lament”, as opposed to just “sadness”, is offering up our sadness to God. And I would add we offer up our sadness to God in expectation - we want to know what He is going to do about it! Sometimes we get an answer, sometimes we don’t. But it is the process, not the answer, that is important.

I can’t help but think of the Pixar movie, Inside Out.** Joy spends the whole movie trying to keep Sadness away from the control board of Riley’s mind. Riley is even commended for her positive outlook, even when things are hard. But in the end, it isn’t Joy who saves the day. Joy finally realizes that the only path to healing Riley is by letting Sadness do her job and take control for a little while. Only when Riley is finally able to express her Sadness, Joy can reenter the picture. And at the end, there is a beautiful picture of Joy and Sadness, hand-in-hand on the control board of Riley’s mind, as Riley snuggles her parents. 

What a stunning picture of Sadness and Joy, co-mingling in healing. The two often have to work together. There is no life without sadness because our world is broken. Unless we know how to find joy in and through sadness, we will have no hope.

We have to learn how to find the joy in the sadness. 

I am constantly reminded of this scene when I “practice lament” with others at my church.

But what’s even better is that we as Christians are not alone with our sadness. Not only do we have each other, we have a God who weeps with us. And as we lift our sadness up to God in lament, He meets us right where we are. 

So I am saying this to you and I am saying this to myself: please, please stop fearing sadness. It is scary to just let ourselves be sad, because what if it breaks us? What if we can’t ever be happy again? But offer your sadness to God and He will meet you in it. 

He came down to earth and experienced suffering first-hand. This is the week we remember Jesus’ journey to the cross, the ultimate in suffering and sacrifice. Meet Him in this suffering. Let yourselves be sad, offer it up as lament, and He will set you on the path of healing to acceptance, to abundance, to joy, and ultimately, the path to Life.

*Church of the Apostles, Bridgeport, CT. Most of what is written here is what I’ve learned there. Except with less Pixar.


**Why do Pixar movies always make it into my blog posts? Let’s pretend it’s because I work with children - but it’s actually just because I think they are phenomenal! And full of good, deep lessons on life!

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All bodies are beautiful.

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All bodies are beautiful. Period. Let’s repeat this to ourselves everyday, and remember this means YOURS too.

All bodies are beautiful. Period. Let’s repeat this to ourselves everyday, and remember this means YOURS too.

It’s been a busy week or so here as I prepare for Holy Week (a busy time in church work!) so my blog has taken the back seat for a little while. But here is another little image I put together, that is also available on my Society6 store.

Meanwhile, this is a lot of what I’ve been up to:

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This has been such a fun project, and our church has such willing volunteers for this type of activity! I feel very blessed, and I hope the kids who participate do as well!

If you are in a children’s ministry role and ever want to connect, feel free to contact me!

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Dear parents: Jesus is enough.

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I wrote this letter for our church’s newsletter about a year ago because we were in need of teachers for our Sunday School classes. I reread it recently and realized these words need to be repeated over and over, so I thought I would post this here as well. It is a good reminder for myself as a Christian parent, too! And if you are part of a church body, consider volunteering in children’s ministry. I promise, you will be both blessed and a blessing.

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Lifter of my Head

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This is a name for God that feels life-saving to me.

It is for those whose body and soul are bent over, who are trudging through the mire, with tear stained faces, who carry heavy burdens, who are world weary. Those who are dragging one foot in front of the other, not knowing to where, never looking up. 

And suddenly He appears. His very presence washes away the mud that surrounds feet. He gently puts his hand under my chin. He lifts my weary head. He looks into my tear-stained eyes. And finally, finally, hope fills my heart.

He looked at me with love. He drew me out of many waters. He delighted in me. Indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.

And it all started when he lifted my head so I could keep my gaze on him. 


Psalm 3:3. Psalm 18:16, 19. Psalm 16:6.

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The Weirdness of Motherhood

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Last night I had a not-too-unusual experience that perfectly encapsulates what a friend has recently called “the weirdness of motherhood”. I had never thought about how weird motherhood was until I heard that phrase and since then I’ve been recognizing it in everything! 

At around 4am my son came to me crying about a spider in his bed. Agreeing with him that yes, that is indeed terrifying, but reassuring him that it was a dream, I encouraged him to go back to bed. (Actually it was more like “huh? Dream! Bed!”) But instead, he climbed into bed with us, and I was too tired to argue. 

What happened next is a perfect example of the weirdness of motherhood. Let me paint you a picture. 

 

Not shown in this little cartoon is that at one point, I was actually missing my daughter and wishing she would join us in the bed! And literally the next second - almost simultaneously even! - I was wishing my son was back in his bed and I could go to sleep. It’s like wanting to be thin and wanting to eat an entire tray of brownies at the same time! (Another oxymoron in my life.)

Whatever stage of motherhood we are in, we want them gone and we want them back. We want snuggles and we want our own space. We want to hold them forever, but we are training them to leave. So I suppose in the end, we have to concentrate on the good stuff and roll with the bad. I’m thankful that my son kept me up last night and I could capture a beautiful sleeping boy picture. But I’m also thankful he doesn’t do that most nights. I guess that’s the key: being thankful whatever the circumstances. 

1 Thessalonians 5:18