Sometimes – like these times – I don’t feel like raising a hallelujah. 

I don’t feel like singing of thankfulness and peace. 

I don’t want to sing about glory and goodness or beauty and gifts.

Sometimes – I don’t feel like singing the Psalmist’s praises in the church pew.

In these time. 

I want to utter a cry of lament.

I want to 

whisper tear filled whys

shout an anger filled how could you-

not save them…

let it pass…

allow this…

hide your face…

I want to add to the Psalmist’s anguished pleas while donning sack cloth to wallow in despair – in tune with the mamas wailing beside their daughters’ empty beds.

And so… I lament.

I cry out to the One who can hear.

And ask for

intervention

comfort

remembrance 

Hope.

Because although I don’t understand, I still believe our God is a God who can handle our raging, and holds us as we weep.