There was a time in my life when the language of the Christian faith felt painful.
I knew the right answers. I could preach the gospel clearly. I said that I believed every word of Scripture. And yet, in the quiet hours of the night, when the darkness pressed in and my own mind turned against me, those truths seemed distant, almost unreachable. I lived under the shadow of depression. There were seasons marked by self-harm, and moments, more than I care to admit, when I attempted to end my life.
By God’s mercy, that is no longer my story today. But it is part of my story. And it has left me with a deep conviction: many Christians have lost the biblical language for suffering.
We have lost lament.
Continue reading “Learning to Weep Before God”