Today's pondering...

This morning a friend left a comment on my last blog. It really got me thinking. She talked about joy and lament. She believes there to be an undercurrent of each in every believer's life. So there is a place for each in the believer's life. This is a very "Reader's Digest" version of what she said, but it has been on my mind all day. Lament is an old word that you don't hear very often anymore, and quite frankly, I think it's sadly absent from Christian circles and churches in general. What seems to be the prevalent thinking or teaching - or maybe just more popular, I don't know - is that as believers we're supposed to be joyful. We have the joy of the Lord, regardless of our circumstances. We have a joy that the unbeliever can't begin to understand. Joy, joy, joy!!! And while all of these statements may be true, they're totally imbalanced. It doesn't leave much room for lament, sorrow, grief. I think it can inevitably lead the believer faced with painful life circumstances to feel somewhat guilty. I have to admit having some of those feelings lately. It was hard to write such a raw blog yesterday, because I felt a little bad about feeling that way "out loud". Where's my joy in the Lord, in His promises, in His love for me? Well, it's there...it's just buried under the layers of grief and sadness and uncertainty I'm facing right now. That's part of that undercurrent of joy thing. It's always there, just not always prevalent or spilling over. And that's ok. The other undercurrent is lament. It's always there, too, but not always prevalent or spilling over...like it is these days. As I was thinking about all of this I realized that just like the believer can experience joy in a way that is foreign to those that don't know Christ, the same is true about lament. We should actually experience grief and lamenting (mourning, weeping) more deeply and acutely than the unbeliever, because we know what we're missing. We know that we weren't created for this life, but for eternity. We know, somewhat, the paradise that is awaiting us. We know that had sin never entered the world, that paradise would be ours now. What makes the feelings of grief more intense is knowing that they never should have been. In a perfect world, Judah would never experience the pain that will be his in the weeks, months, or years ahead. He would never be handicapped or deformed; he would be perfect. However, if we - or I - can embrace our grief and allow ourselves to lament what has been lost, it serves to draw us even closer to Christ and gives us more of a sense of urgency for Heaven. I want Heaven for Judah. I want him here with me, but in Heaven he will be whole. It's hard to reconcile the two beliefs that Judah would be perfect had sin never entered the world, and that he's perfect now because he is exactly who God intended for him to be...in this life. Maybe that's the key. Recognizing that there are two lives - this very painful, imperfect one where we can experience joy regardless of our circumstances, even if it is tempered with (or completely trampled by) lament sometimes; and the life we are designed for, where joy will be all there is and the mourning and weeping will be forever behind us. Deep stuff...and this is as far as I've gotten. But I know I'm in good company. There are some that I am privileged to know that "get" this; but I'm also in this with guys like Jeremiah, Micah, Amos, Isaiah, David - sheesh, his "blog" is a constant roller coaster ride between joy and lament - and of course Christ. He mourned and wept, and mourns and weeps. And I believe that He weeps with me over Judah. Another friend also pointed out to me today that Christ wept before He suffered the cross, but it also says in Hebrews that "for the joy set before Him endured the cross". He found joy in doing His Father's will, not His own. So I lament, but I know the joy is there somewhere.