Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy
Introductory Thoughts
Last week, I committed to working through the book “Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy” by Mark Vroegop. There are ten chapters, plus the introduction and conclusion. Since my Sunday blogs are my act of worship, I will spend the next twelve weeks slowly and meditatively working through this book. I will share my thoughts, emotions, and prayers with you as candidly as possible. I hope you will be equally blessed by the journey.
Introduction
In the introduction, the author shares his personal story of loss related to the stillbirth of their daughter, Sylvia, and how grief and sorrow pierced his heart and caused questions that haunted him.
He talked about how he discovered lament when he poured his heart out to the Lord with “desperate candor.” That phrase really caught my attention because I rarely hear it mentioned when it comes to prayer. Candor is “the quality of being open and honest in expression; frankness.”
My initial reaction to approaching God with desperate candor was nervousness and longing. I am greatly aware of how my dysfunctional relationship with my earthly father has impacted my perception of my Heavenly Father. We have been working on it together for quite some time, but it still shows up occasionally.
My nervousness was tied to my fawning response with my earthly father and how it was unsafe to go to him with candor. The reason my response was nervousness and not fear is because I have spent some time working through it and correcting my thoughts with the truth of scripture, so I KNOW assuredly that my Heavenly Father is not like that. The nervousness I experience provides the opportunity for me to step out in faith and take God at His Word…Lord, you said that nothing shall separate me from your love, and I am trusting you.
My longing was for the ability to feel comfortable and secure enough in my relationship with God that I am willing to be 100% open and honest with Him. How often do we try to sugarcoat or spiritualize the desperation of our hearts? Too often, I suspect.
He said, “The gut-level honesty expressed in lament was refreshing and helpful.” When I read this, I wondered how often I was really gut-level honest about my emotions, even with myself, never mind God. So often, I minimize, ignore, or override the intensity of my emotions instead of bringing them honestly to the Lord and laying them at His feet. He already knows what I’m feeling…He knows my heart…He knows me better than I know myself…so why try to hide it?
Uncomfortable With Lament
I must admit to smirking when I saw this section title because I have observed the same discomfort from believers when I share pieces of my trauma story. Christians immediately want to jump right into “the bright side,” have a monologue about God’s will, or, even more popular…quote Romans 8:28 [bang head here]. Very rarely will people have the courage or willingness to step into the pain of another and join us in our grief.
Perhaps this book will make a difference in that department. I am hopeful it will.
Lament as Grace
A couple of things stood out to me in this section. I loved when he said:
“Finding an explanation or a quick solution for grief, while an admirable goal, can circumvent the opportunity afforded in lament — to give a person permission to wrestle with sorrow instead of rushing to end it. Walking through sorrow without understanding and embracing the God-given song of lament can stunt the grieving process.”
That was so powerful, wasn’t it?
What I loved most about this section and also gave me the desire to read this book was his reference to Psalm 13.
“How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I take counsel in my soul and have sorrow in my heart all the day? How long shall my enemy be exalted over me? Consider and answer me, O Lord my God; light up my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death, lest my enemy say, ‘I have prevailed over him,’ let my foes rejoice because I am shaken. But I have trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, because He has dealt bountifully with me.” (vv. 1–6)
Reading this Psalm awakened in me a long-dormant memory of a time during my teen years when I, too, would call out to God in desperate candor and ask Him, “Lord, how much longer must I suffer with this abuse? How much longer before you rescue me? I don’t know how much more I can take, Lord. Lord, I know this is your will for me and that you have a plan and a purpose for my life, but God, I’m struggling so much now. I need you.” Even now, the tears are flowing in healing recognition of what He brought me through.
As I was meditating on this situation this week, I wondered what happened to that young girl who was too desperate to be afraid of coming to God in candor. She mistakenly thought that once God rescued her from the abuse, she could put it in the past without dealing with the spiritual devastation it left in its wake. Instead of turning to God, she turned to the world and psychology for answers and healing, but what she learned as a much older woman was that only God can heal…and she is re-learning to turn TOWARD Him in her pain and to lament as she brings her sorrow to Him.
Deep Mercy in Dark Clouds
Referencing Lamentations 2:1 and 3:22, the author says,
“This historic song gives you permission to vocalize your pain as it moves you toward God-centered worship and trust. Lament is how you live between the poles of a hard life and trusting in God’s sovereignty. Lament is how we bring our sorrow to God. Without lament we won’t know how to process pain. Silence, bitterness, and even anger can dominate our spiritual lives instead. Without lament we won’t know how to help people walking through sorrow.”
Personal Reflections
I have already shared many of my thoughts and reactions to the sections as I went through them, but I want to acknowledge the longing desire of my heart to enter the spiritual practice of lament. Something is calling me, deep within my soul, to continue moving forward and moving toward God with the residual pain from my trauma…and so I will continue to take the next right step.
How about you? Will you join me?
