It’s been one of those find-what-we-can-in-the-fridge-for-dinner, just-get-outside-after-work evenings, because the world just felt like too much today. Sometimes a life-giving perspective–one that re-orients us to circumstance-transcending truth–doesn’t just come on scene and sweep us off our feet: sometimes we have to shuffle one foot in front of the other to find it. (It was real shuffling in winds that aided the temperature’s flight from 50° to 26°F, but it was worth it.)
In the middle of the sunset, I found the reminder that no matter how overwhelmed I felt today, I wasn’t completely consumed. “Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning” (Lamentations 3:21–22). This day closes, and fresh compassion restarts tomorrow.
The Book of Lamentations hits differently when reading it against the backdrop of war in Russia and Ukraine. Reading it in this time of lament shows me how strong its promises are—strong enough to carry us through death.
The verse about not being consumed (v. 22) comes in the very middle of the poem, and strategically so: it’s the turning point linguistically and theologically. The writer’s sorrow over his nation builds to this unexpected climax.
In Hebrew, each line of this acrostic poem has a tight, syllabic rhythm, and not for artistic purposes only: it’s meant to aid with memorization. This poem was meant to be chanted. Together, people would verbally share their loss and find their hope.
And here we see two gifts God has given us for the dire times: community and Scripture. Together, we shuffle our feet through wind in the Ozarks or rubble heaps in Ukraine, and together, we call to mind our hope: the Lord’s great love will not let us be consumed. What kills the body cannot kill the soul. Our lives are hidden with Christ in God.
Today, wherever you are, I pray that God brings you community who will share your sorrow and walk with you toward hope. —People who can quote 3:21-25 with you and mean it. I pray that God brings you relief in knowing that the brightness of truth does not often come naturally, that it has to be kick-started, and that all of humanity is in the same boat on this. We have to “call to mind” rather than wait for the light to set in. We have to let it in. Counterintuitively, sometimes it’s in the doing, rather than having something done to you, that reminds you there’s a lifeline. Reach for it. But know you never reach for it alone.
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Photo: us, tonight, with numb fingers and numb noses, all the better for having braved the wind for a fresh perspective. We’ll remember this photo when it snows tomorrow. 