We’ve journeyed together through embracing distraction as a point of connection with God, valuing the sound of honest prayer, and finding God even when silence feels safer. But there’s another language of prayer—one we might desperately need to recover if we want to connect with God in both joy and sorrow.

It’s the language of lament. If honest prayer is about our posture in prayer – Not trying to play games or impress, but simply being, at any given moment, exactly who we are.

How is lament different?

What Lament Is (and Isn’t)

Lament isn’t whining or wallowing. It’s not giving up or declaring that God has failed.

Lament is the deep, unvarnished cry of a soul that holds grief and hope in the same breath. It’s the courage to say:

“This is not okay! This hurts! I’m confused! Are you there? Have you given up on me? Why are you letting this go on?”

This isn’t weakness or a lack of faith; it’s daring to admit, “This hurts and I need You, here.” The Bible is full of lament. The Psalms lead the way, but there is also the book of Lamentations, which, as the name says, is big on lament! Here are some examples:

• 1:16, “for all these things I weep; tears flow down my cheeks. No one is here to comfort me; any who might encourage me are far away. My children have no future, for the enemy has conquered us.”
• 1:20, “Lord, see my anguish! My heart is broken and my soul despairs, for I have rebelled against you…”
• 2:18-19, “Cry aloud before the Lord, O walls of Jerusalem! Let your tears flow like a river. Give yourselves no rest from weeping day or night. Rise during the night and cry out. Pour out your hearts like water to the Lord. Lift up your hands to him in prayer..”

In Matthew 27:46, when Jesus cries, “My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?” he is lamenting. Why God? Why have you abandoned me?

These examples show that lament is not a detour from faith, but faith at its rawest—trusting God enough to meet Him in the ache.

Why We Struggle With Lament

If lament feels risky or awkward, you’re not alone. In many Western church settings, we prefer upbeat worship, victory language, and quick resolutions. We can be so eager to land on hope that we skip over the ache.

But real life doesn’t always resolve neatly. Sometimes grief stretches on for months, even years. Whether grieving a personal loss, lamenting injustice in the world, or wrestling with doubt, honest lament shapes a deeper connection.

When I’ve avoided lament—especially during my season of deconstruction—my prayers became thinner, safer, less honest, and fewer. Until there weren’t any left. While I was still able to pray, I brought the “acceptable” pieces of myself, leaving out my questions, my grief about why everything I knew about faith and walking with Jesus seemed to be falling apart, and the disappointment that weighed heavily on my soul. By skipping lament, I missed meeting God right in the middle of my pain. If he did not care, neither would I.

Lament isn’t about fixing our feelings or rushing to solutions. It’s about being real before God in the unresolved moments. When cracks show up and our soul, heart, and mind become like a fragile vase, it’s ok to be in that space.

Lament can be Worship

I appreciate the contemporary voices that are helping us recover this forgotten language. In a previous post, I mentioned Samantha Ebert and Leanna Crawford, who have beautifully put some of their lament into words.

Earlier this year, the song, Some Days by Brent Morgan also became one of my songs of lament. Rather than writing the words, I’ll give you a couple of minutes to listen to it yourself.

(for another song during the same season, see my post “Finding Hope Through Music: A Journey of Healing and Faith“)

How to Pray in Lament

If you’ve never prayed in lament before, here’s an example of a simple rhythm drawn from the psalms. Don’t worry about getting the words “right.” What matters is showing up—heart, questions, and all—believing God cares enough to listen and respond:

• Address God – “Lord, You are my refuge…”
• Name the grief – “…but I feel abandoned right now.”
• Ask boldly – “Show me Your nearness. Change this situation.”
• Choose trust – “Yet I will trust You.”

This isn’t a formula, but a way of holding sorrow and faith together, without pretending one cancels out the other.

If you feel comfortable, consider sharing a line of lament here, in the comments, or with a trusted friend. Sometimes just naming our sorrow aloud brings a glimpse of comfort.

Why This Matters

Lament brings the silence of grief into honest conversation with God. It insists that life is often brutal and broken, yet God is present.

As theologian N.T. Wright says:
“Lament is not our final prayer. It is a prayer ‘in the meantime.’”

The biblical story is that God laments with us, and in that mutual lament, we find hope.

Sometimes, the deepest act of faith isn’t to sing a victory song—it’s simply to keep showing up and keep the conversation going.

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Journaling Prompt
“What is one grief or injustice I’ve been too weary—or too afraid—to bring honestly before God?”

Breath Prayer
“In sorrow, I trust You.”