Have you ever seen someone in pain who’s not handling it well? I know you have and I have too. It’s not pretty is it? They can become bitter. Sometimes they get angry and strike. For many, pain becomes their identity.
Last time I posted I shared from the life of Joseph. I’m tempted to do the same with this post because so much of his story fits inside this theme. In his stead I’ll share a brief glimpse into his father, Jacob.
There was a day in his life when a blood-soaked garment was brought to him by his sons. “He’s gone, Dad. Joseph’s dead, mauled by a lion.” Jacob was inconsolable.
Jacob knew pain. Think back to his wedding night. Recall the entire saga of Esau? Does his divinely dislocated hip ring any bells? Consider the twenty hard years of labor in Paddan-aram (interestingly, the verb associated with the place suggests this was where Jacob was ‘ransomed’; a necessary length of time for Old Jacob to meet New Jacob).
Because of these things, perhaps, Jacob had a fixation with death and trouble. He carried his pain with him into every season and well inside his old age. There’s another grievous pain he bore but I’ll get to that if time permits.
Any of those things would cause many a man or woman to go running for the hills. God won’t give you more than you can bear?
Please.
Say that to Jacob with a straight face.
The worst of times are not the last of times.
— John Piper
lament
Lament is one of those words that sounds too religious for us regular folk. But we cannot move forward without it. This is why so many get stuck in the dry docks of dismay.
Jacob lost 22 years of his life as the consequence of his sons’ great sins against Joseph, Tamar, and the men of Shechem. He is often seen sitting with his grief and unhealthy preoccupation with death.*
*Gen 37:35; 42:36; 42:38: 44:22, 27-29; 30-31; 45:28; 46:31
One of my regrets about life after my accident is that I didn’t take necessary time to grieve all that was taken from me. In the ensuing years I was often asked “Do you get bitter?” I replied, “No, never once.” And that was the truth.
Did I lament my loss? I did…eventually. TBH, I still lament. Something is wrong with this picture. My disability is not part of the new creation. Jesus wept at Lazarus’ tomb because it didn’t…belong. It stinks. It hurts. How long, O God?
I love how lament is described by an Anglican priest:
Lament is what happens when the promises of God collide with the reality of our lives, and we express that collision and call on God to harmonise the two.
— Revd Dr. Alastair McKay, St. Martin-in-the-field
The thing about lament, biblically understood, is that it always — always — leads to praise. To lament is to actively pursue God in the midst of your sorrow. It may be a long time coming but you eventually get there. Jacob spent 22 years locked inside his bereavement. Would he recover?
I’m a big fan of the minor key and the book of Job. My friends know how much I love a gloomy, overcast day. Barry Manilow’s saddest ballads were my favorite songs in high school and college. Don’t hate me, I’m still fragile about that.
I’ve been through some stuff in my life, but I don’t ever recall a time when I’ve just wanted to pack it all in and jump ship. I scrolled through my twitter feed the other day and came across this share from a pastor I found quite enlightening:
That’s good. And painfully true.
Jacob is a case study in not dealing well with your hurt. You can’t tell me that his solemnity and despair didn’t rub off on his children. I imagine Judah or Simeon wondered aloud from time to time if they’d ever be more than a painful burr in their dad’s soul. Perhaps Reuben felt the scorn of being Leah’s son and that was all he could ever bring to the table.
But then there was a famine in the land. (Pay close attention to Gen 43:14)
It changed everything.
lessons learned
There came a day when Jacob got some news: his boy was alive! I’ve imagined how awesome it would be if I woke up tomorrow morning to see Graham at the foot of our bed! To realize it had all been a very bad dream. When I read of Jacob’s exhilaration, I feel that deep in my core.
Jacob had enjoyed Joseph for seventeen years in Hebron (Gen 37:2), and now he would get to enjoy Joseph for seventeen years in Egypt (Gen 47:28).
At 130 years of age Jacob made peace with his pain. In a long blessing over Joseph he invoked the name El Shaddai at the start and finished with Elohim at the close. Happy is the life that begins and ends with God!
Long before David called God his Faithful Shepherd, Jacob beat him to it. Jacob was the first person in Scripture to say that God “has been my shepherd all my life.” That sounds like a man at peace.
“I am about to die, BUT GOD…”
“But God.”
May this be your confession by his mercy and grace.
Allow me this one final splurge. Before you click away, I’d like to share the song whose lyric inspired the title of this post. Sandy chose this song as part of worship for Graham’s funeral. Yes, I said that. Funeral worship. We’ll see him again. Maybe not here, but when our lament has finished its course.
Amen.
Thank you Scott. Lovely way to start the day. Also a thank you to Sandy for the choice of music.
Oh, dearest Amy, thank you. Thank you for your sweet spirit that has loved and encouraged Sandy and me all these years. Y’all are greatly loved!
Brother, I confess I don’t take the time I should to say “thank you” for what you share in your messages. This morning, I am. Thank you, my dear brother Scott; for your life and obedience-through-tears. I continue to pray for you and for Sandy, always. With love from me, I remain in His Joy…
Don, my brother and blessing, I can’t say too deeply enough how wonderful it is to read your words. Thank you for visiting with me this day and taking the time to express your great heart. I long for the Day of great reunion and communion!
So often the focus is on Joseph , but thank you for bringing out the rich lessons to learn from Jacob’s life! Out of all you have been through in the past 41 years plus, God has used you mightily to inspire, to bless , to encourage and to teach us. God’s refining process in our lives reminds me of the song by Debby Jackson, “THE FIRE” as it says, ” …It hasn’t been much fun, but the work that it has done In my life has made it worth the hurt.”…”So He always knows what’s best, And it’s when we are distressed That we really come to love God as He is.” May the Lord give you and Sandy strength for each new day ! Until He comes or calls us Home, may we be vessels for His use.
We receive that prayer/blessing, Beth! God has us ministering in a particularly hard place in this season and I’m grateful for the reminder of that song. I think I’ll spend some time meditating on those lyrics (the fire’s even hotter today!). You are always a blessing, dear friend, thank you!
Aren’t you so thankful He is with us always even in the hottest fire! Praying for you both! Much love to you all.
Praise God, amen. Love y’all too!
It can “sound” spiritual to try to deny the pain…But to deny the pain we must try to deny we are human. This one was not easy for you to write. Thank you.
You are so right, Jon. This one tested me and it’s testing me still even after I hit the publish button. Walking through it and discovering “new” names for God makes the journey worthwhile. Still painful; will be until the new creation. Friends like you are a gift along the way.
I needed this today. I have been wrestling with how I often don’t give others or myself the space to grieve. It is so messy… that place between the beginning of the lament and the praise part. There is a loud echo in that place that makes it uncomfortable… yet so needed if we are to truly find healing. I want HIS heart of compassion …. the way HE holds in the process. I need HIM to do this in me.
Your words of solidarity encourage me so. It’s a sacred business we find ourselves in, and hopeless without Jesus. I’m so grateful we never have to find out. Thank you, Living Christ!