M. Elizabeth Lewis Hall

I lay in bed beside my sleeping husband, my heart pounding so loudly in my chest that I was sure I would wake him up. I was terrified. That afternoon, my doctor had told me that I had stage 2 breast cancer at age 45, and my own research on the internet showed that I had a one in five chance of dying within the next 10 years. It wasn’t so much that I was afraid of dying — though I really, really didn’t want to! — but that my two sons were still in their early teens, and I didn’t want them to face the death of their mother, or my husband, the death of his wife. In the weeks and months that followed, I spent time each morning crying out to God, usually in tears, simply pleading for mercy and wrestling with my ideas about God’s goodness in the face of a potential outcome that I couldn’t imagine as good. Little did I know that in those early morning hours, I was following in the well-trodden footsteps of God's people, dating back approximately 1000 years before Christ. David and other psalmists had similarly poured out their hearts to God and struggled with God’s apparent absence during difficult times, and memorialized these times in gut-wrenching psalms — what we now call the psalms of lament.

Some time later, I ran across theologian Todd Billings’ book, “Rejoicing in Lament.” He spoke of leaning on prayers of lament as he lived with stage 4 cancer, and, as a theologian, provided a wealth of detail about the structure and content of the psalms of lament. I was fascinated. As a lifelong Christian, voracious reader, and psychologist trained in a Christian doctoral program, how had I never heard of this type of prayer?

a framed print in a shop window — Zuzana Kacerová; Unsplash

Since then, I have discovered that I am not alone in my need for lament. When suffering disrupts our carefully ordered lives, we often find ourselves at a loss for words. We may struggle to pray, unsure how to bring our raw pain before a holy God. Yet Scripture offers us a powerful spiritual practice that many contemporary Christians have forgotten: the practice of lament.

What Is Biblical Lament?

Lament is far more than simply expressing sorrow or grief. It is a structured dialogue with God that encompasses honest emotional expression within a framework of faith. This ancient practice, which some estimate comprises nearly 40% of the Psalms, provides a pathway through suffering that ultimately leads to renewed trust in God.

Unlike generic expressions of distress, biblical lament follows a recognizable pattern — a sacred rhythm that guides us from disorientation through to renewed spiritual grounding. It's not just an expression of deep emotion; it’s this expression directed to a specific person: God. It calls out to God for action. And perhaps most surprisingly, biblical lament ends in praise — sometimes exuberant praise — to God.

Why Lament Matters: Evidence from Research

Suffering is disorienting. It shakes our assumptions about how the world should work and our place within it. When hard things cause a gap between our worldview and our understanding of difficult events, we experience distress. This is where lament becomes essential.

For example, a foundational belief I have held as long as I can remember is that God is good. But my understanding of my cancer diagnosis is that it was a potential tragedy that could bring terrible suffering to my loved ones. And God was allowing it. How could these two things both be true? Those hours spent in God’s presence provided the space for the kind of meaning-making that allowed me to reconcile the two. My understanding of God’s goodness became more nuanced, allowing more fully for the reality that in a fallen world he walks with us through suffering while promising us that ultimately everything will be well. My understanding of my cancer changed as I began to see how God was using my cancer experiences to change me and direct my life along new paths.

As a psychologist who has walked through my own season of suffering, I found myself wondering: Does this ancient practice actually help people who are suffering? So I decided to study it empirically. What I discovered through both research and personal experience is that lament offers a pathway from disorientation to renewed faith — one that honors the reality of pain while leading us toward deeper intimacy with God.

In my research, I've conducted several studies guiding people through the practice of lament and examining how lament affects people going through difficult life circumstances. The results have been encouraging. People who had suffered a negative life event who practiced lament over time showed increases in flourishing — including life satisfaction, positive emotions, and adjustment to their stressful situations. People with chronic pain showed decreased in pain severity and pain interference.

Perhaps most intriguingly, when we analyzed participants’ written narratives about their struggles using linguistic analysis software, we found that those who practiced lament showed enhanced meaning-making compared to a control group. The structure of lament appears to help people process their suffering in ways that lead to growth rather than bitterness.

In interviews, participants reported feeling more honest and authentic in their relationship with God, less isolated in their suffering, better able to process complex emotions, and more grounded in their faith even when circumstances hadn’t changed. Many expressed surprise that they could wrestle with God and still trust him — that bringing their honest struggles to God was itself an act of faith.

Overcoming Barriers to Honest Prayer

Through interviewing Christians who have practiced lament, I’ve discovered that many of us face significant barriers to being honest with God about our suffering. Understanding these barriers — and how lament addresses them — can help us engage more fully with this practice.

“I’m a Good Christian Boy/Girl”

Many participants in my research described feeling like they needed to present what we might call a “false self” to God. As one person shared, “I never gave myself permission to be honest with God. I think for a long time I really felt like I needed to put up a face for him because I wanted to give him what he wanted.”

This tendency undermines intimacy by making authentic relationship impossible. But seeing lament modeled throughout Scripture — especially in the Psalms — gives us permission to bring our whole selves to God. As another participant discovered, “God is interested in us the way that we are — that we don’t have to be something that we're not or be doing well when we're not.”

“Won't God Be Angry If I Complain?”

Some Christians fear that expressing doubt, anger, or complaint might damage their relationship with God or reveal weak faith. Yet the Psalms show us that orienting to God in the midst of painful emotions is actually an act of faith, not a sign of doubt. One participant reflected, “It's okay to be frustrated. It's okay to do this, and still praise God.”

The structure of lament, which always returns to praise, provides a kind of safety net. As one person noted, "It circled me back to the Lord... It's like, you can go crazy, and you could ask questions, and all these things could be happening, but it kind of circles you back to, 'Hey, I get it, but we're gonna still praise him.'"

"I Don't Have Words for This Pain"

Sometimes our suffering feels too overwhelming or complex to articulate. Participants in my research found that lament provided a "container" for difficult emotions, with several noting that it gave them language for previously unspoken feelings. The biblical laments offer us vocabulary and imagery for experiences that might otherwise remain trapped inside us.

"God Seems Distant in My Suffering"

Isolation and disconnection from God’s presence are common experiences during difficult times. The practice of lament directly combats this isolation. When we read the psalms of lament, we discover we’re not alone — others have walked this path before us. More importantly, the very act of addressing God in lament reinforces that he is present and listening, even when we can’t feel him near.

A Living Example: Psalm 13

Before exploring the structure of lament, let me share with you a short psalm that illustrates the beauty and power of lament. Read it slowly, perhaps even aloud, and notice how it moves from raw anguish to confident praise:

Psalm 13

¹ How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
² How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and day after day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me?

³ Look on me and answer, Lord my God.
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death,
⁴ and my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,”
and my foes will rejoice when I fall.

⁵ But I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation.
⁶ I will sing the Lord’s praise,
for he has been good to me.

Notice how this brief psalm captures the full emotional journey of lament — from feeling forgotten by God to singing his praise. This isn't artificial positivity or denial of pain. It's a real wrestling that leads to real trust. Let's explore how this pattern works.

“Perhaps ... you will find permission to be honest with God, to wrestle with your suffering, and to walk with God through your struggles back to renewed hope and trust in God.”

The Five Movements of Lament

1. Calling Out to God

Lament begins by turning to God in our troubles. Like Psalm 13’s opening cry, “How long, Lord?" we bring our suffering directly to God. This isn’t lonely catharsis or mere emotional expression — it’s engagement with the God who invites us to bring all our experiences, including our suffering, to him.

When we call out to God, we're reminded that we matter to him. Unlike human relationships, where we might keep things back to avoid offending or getting shut down or punished, God invites expression of our concerns and needs. We can take initiative in the relationship and expect that God will be responsive. As we look back through the lens of the cross, we can cry out to God as our Abba Father — a term of intimacy that Jesus himself used.

2. Complaining to God

In the second movement, we bring the cause of our suffering before God in complaint. The Psalms show us a remarkable array of struggles: bodies that don’t work well, disease and pain, disappointments, depression, betrayal by friends, attacks by enemies. Most startling of all, God himself is often the focus of complaint.

The two fundamental questions of complaint are: “God, where are you?” and “God, if you love me, then why?” Nothing appears off-limits when expressing our suffering to God. Doubts about God, anger at God, even hatred of enemies — God is open to our expressing honestly whatever is in our hearts. He alone is big enough to deal with absolute honesty.

This expression of suffering is crucial. In lament, suffering is neither denied nor minimized. It’s recognized, and in doing so, the experience of the sufferer is legitimized. Putting our suffering into words allows it to be processed and brings it into the relational realm with God.

3. Requesting from God

While avoiding our suffering isn’t helpful, neither is getting stuck in it. In this third element, we acknowledge God as the one who can actually do something about our suffering. We vulnerably express our deepest desires, recognizing that our longings reflect the world God created us to live in — a world characterized by shalom.

The acknowledgment of God’s power implicit in our requests introduces hope into the process. When we ask God to act, we’re reminded that he can act to change situations. This hope is central to meaning-making and flourishing. Our requests may be for deliverance from suffering itself or from the threat of meaninglessness it produces.

4. Remembering Who God Is

One of our human weaknesses is that we’re prone to forgetting. We get so caught up in present difficulties that we lose broader perspective. This movement involves reminding ourselves of who God is and what he has done in the past.

We remember God’s character — that he is just, powerful, and able to act on behalf of sufferers. We recall how God has powerfully acted before. This remembering helps us hang onto hope in the midst of our troubles and reminds us of our position in relation to God — not as peers, but in the intimacy of a cosmic parent-child relationship.

5. Praising God

The last component, found in all but one psalm of lament, is the expression of confidence in God. The transition is often marked by “but” — signaling a contrast, a movement into a new way of experiencing reality. The focus shifts from the psalmist’s pain to God himself. As Psalm 13 declares: “But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing the Lord’s praise, for he has been good to me.”

This transition to praise isn’t necessarily because circumstances have changed. Rather, it occurs through the surrender to God that the earlier parts of lament facilitate. Through the process of calling out, complaining, requesting, and remembering, our desires, affections, and perspectives are reshaped.

Practicing Lament: A Simple Guide

To begin practicing lament, you might start by praying through existing psalms of lament, as ancient Israelites did regularly in worship. Psalms 13, 22, 31, 42, and many others provide powerful words for our own experiences.

You can also write your own lament following the five-movement structure:

1. Address God — Choose how to call out to God based on what you need in this moment. Lord? Abba Father? My Strength? God of my salvation?

2. Pour out your complaint — Be honest about your struggles. Use imagery if it helps express what words alone cannot. Consider these examples from Psalm 22:

“Many bulls surround me; strong bulls of Bashan encircle me. Roaring lions tearing their prey open their mouths wide against me” — for when you feel attacked
“I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint” — for when you feel completely undone
“My heart is like wax; it has melted within me” — for when courage fails

These images help us express the inexpressible — the way suffering feels in our bodies and souls.

3. Make your requests — What do you need from God? What do you desire? Be vulnerable and specific. This isn’t “name it and claim it” — it’s honest relationship. Even if God chooses to say “no,” he knows what’s in your heart, and this can bring you closer to him.

4. Remember God’s faithfulness — Recall times God has shown up in your life or in Scripture. What aspects of God’s character bring you hope?

5. Express trust and praise — Even if you can only write “But...” and stop there, that’s okay. Surrender is often a process. When you’re able, express whatever trust and praise you can offer.

An Invitation to Begin

In contemporary Christian circles, we tend to be avoidant of suffering, focusing on Christ’s triumph over sin and suffering while skipping the process of working through pain. But Christ suffered to bring that triumph, and until he comes again, we will continue to experience the fallenness of this world. In lament, God in Christ invites us to bring our suffering to him.

Words don’t simply reflect experience; they also shape experience. When we express our experience in the form of lament and allow our experience to be shaped by its movements, our experience itself is transformed. The structure of lament molds our verbalized experience through encountering the reality of God and his character.

This profound engagement with suffering may feel countercultural, but it connects us with centuries of believers who have found that lament provides a pathway from suffering to worship, from disorientation to renewed faith, from isolation to deeper intimacy with God.

Perhaps today is the day to begin your own journey with lament. Start simple — read Psalm 13 as your own prayer. Let its ancient words give voice to your current struggles. Trust that the God who heard the psalmist’s cries hears yours too, and that the path of lament, though difficult, leads ultimately to praise.

Perhaps, like me, you will find permission to be honest with God, to wrestle with your suffering, and to walk with God through your struggles back to renewed hope and trust in God.