I will think I have it figured out. 
             I will say, “Yes, life is hard, but God never promised otherwise (despite Joel Osteen).  I can do this.” 
            Then suddenly something happens I did not expect, something that seems the opposite of everything I have prayed for, and I wilt.  That’s when it is all too easy to fall into the “Why me?” trap.  The “I’ve done all this for you and look what I get in return,” con.  Jeremiah fell too.
            The prophets never had easy lives.  Hosea, Ezekiel, Amos, and Jeremiah are prime examples, and maybe Jeremiah more than any of them.  Check out 15:10-21.  Because of the poetic and figurative language it can be difficult to get the full impact, so if you will allow, I am going to paraphrase for you.
            In many versions this is labeled “Jeremiah’s Complaint.”  That ought to give you a clue about what’s going on.
            Jeremiah says, “Everyone hates me [because of what I’ve preached on your behalf, which is implied not spoken] v 10.
            God says, “Haven’t I delivered you?” v 11.
            Jeremiah says, “I did just what you told me to and YOU have deceived me” vv15-18.
            Uh-oh, Jeremiah has gone a step too far.  God will always hear His children’s cries.  Elsewhere on this blog we studied the Psalms and discovered that there are far more lament psalms than any other kind (including praise psalms)!  But Jeremiah has accused God of sin against him.
            How do I know?  Because God tells him, “If you repent, I will restore you.  Do not become like the very people I have sent you to” v 19.
            There are two lessons in this conversation that we need to hear.  First, other people’s bad behavior never justifies bad behavior in us.  Somehow we think that we can get away with anything as long as we can say, “But look how he treated me.”  No, we can’t, and if we claim to be Jesus’ disciples, the one who When…reviled…did not revile in return; when he suffered…did not threaten, but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly. (1Pet 2:23), then we should know that.
            And that last phrase, “entrusting himself” to God segues nicely into the second lesson.
            “I delivered you,” God told Jeremiah.  Somehow, Jeremiah missed it.  Maybe it’s because he kept winding up imprisoned or thrown into a muddy cistern and left to die, and threatened with death almost constantly.  But God did deliver him.  Someone always came to the rescue providentially, people who just happened to be there with memory and logic, or on one occasion a foreigner who somehow had influence over the king.
            Jeremiah’s problem was that God’s idea of deliverance didn’t match his.  Here I am up to my armpits in a filthy, dank well and this is deliverance?  Yes, it was.  Instead of being killed instantly, he was left to die, which gave his rescuer an opportunity to save him.  Eventually he was pulled out of that hole to relative safety so he could preach even more.  Do you see that?  He was delivered so he could continue a hard and dangerous mission, not so he could live in luxury.
            And for us, deliverance may not look like our version of deliverance.  It may not match what we have prayed for, but that’s because God’s version often involves things we haven’t even been spiritual enough to think of.
            Do you want an example?  If you know my eye story, you know it has been going on a long, long time.  Longer than any doctor thought possible.  No, my vision is not what it used to be, but I still have some!  And what has that done for me?  It has taken away a lot things that used to take up my time, and suddenly, I am able to write, to teach, and to speak.  I have done more of that in the past fifteen years than in the thirty years before combined.
            And even now, it appears that my remaining vision is dimming.  But with the aid of lenses and large print, I can still manage the close things.  I can still study.  I can still type.  I may not be able to see the individual features of the crowd of faces in front of me, but I can still see my notes and my mouth works just fine.
            God’s idea of deliverance cost me a few things, like a music studio and some independence.  But it also delivered me to do so much more.
             Don’t whine when your deliverance is not what you hoped.  Don’t mope when your plans don’t work out, when you feel used and abused, when you think all is lost.  You may be shoulder deep in the mire right now, but that will make the deliverance even more amazing when it comes.  Just stop expecting your version and look for God’s.  In the words of the old joke, “I sent a boat and I sent a helicopter.  It’s not my fault you didn’t take me up on it.”
 
Therefore thus says the LORD: “If you return, I will restore you, and you shall stand before me. If you utter what is precious, and not what is worthless, you shall be as my mouth. They shall turn to you, but you shall not turn to them. ​And I will make you to this people a fortified wall of bronze; they will fight against you, but they shall not prevail over you, for I am with you to save you and deliver you, declares the LORD. ​I will deliver you out of the hand of the wicked, and redeem you from the grasp of the ruthless.” (Jer 15:19-21)
 
Dene Ward

Popcorn is our snack of choice when watching ball games.  We make it the old fashioned way—bacon grease in a large saucepan, bulk popcorn from a large plastic bag, and salt.  Heat it over high heat, shaking the pan until it stops popping.  The stuff out of the microwave cannot begin to compare.
            We still wind up with what the industry calls “old maids,” kernels that have not popped.  Usually it’s the kernel’s fault, not the popper’s. 
            They tell me that popcorn kernels are the only grain with a hard moisture-proof hull.  That means that not only can moisture not get into the kernel, but the moisture inside the kernel cannot get out either.  As you heat them, the steam inside increases until the pressure reaches 135 psi and the heat 180 degrees Celsius (356 for us non-scientists).  At that point, the starch inside the kernel gelatinizes, becoming soft and pliable.   When the hull explodes the steam expands the starch and proteins into the airy foam we know as popcorn.
            I found two theories about old maids.  One is that there is not enough moisture in the kernel to begin with; the other is that the hull develops a leak, acting as a release valve so that pressure cannot build enough for the “explosion.”  Either way, the kernels just sit there and scorch, becoming harder and drier as they cook.
            Isn’t that what happens when we undergo trials?  Some of us use the experience to flower into a stronger, wiser, more pleasant personality.  Others of us sit there and scorch in the heat until we dry up completely, no use for God or His people, let alone ourselves.  The resulting bitterness is reflected in the cynical way we view the world, the way we continue to wallow in the misery of our losses, and the impenetrable barrier we raise whenever anyone tries to help us.  As Israel said when they had forsaken God for idols and knew they would be punished, Our bones have dried up, our hope is lost, we are clean cut off, Ezek 37:11.  When we refuse to seek God in our day of trouble, when we forget the blessings He has given us even though we deserved none, that is the result.
            But God can help even the hopeless.  He can bring us back from despair.  He can make our hearts blossom in the heat of trial if we remember the lesson about priorities, about what really counts in the end.  If we have only hoped in Christ in this life, we are of all men most pitiable, 1 Cor 15:19, and that is exactly where we find ourselves if we allow anything in this life to steal our faith in God. 
            Trials are not pleasant; they are not meant to be.  They are meant to create something new in us, something stronger and more spiritual.  When, instead, we become hard and bitter, we are like the old maids in a bag of popcorn, and when the popcorn fizzles, it’s the popcorn’s fault.
 
For our light affliction, which is for the moment, works for us more and more exceedingly an eternal weight of glory; while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal. 2 Cor 4:17,18.
 
Dene Ward
 

A few weeks ago we piled into the car and headed off for town.  As we reached the western end of the driveway, we saw a stack of pine limbs, 12-15 feet long and still green, as if someone had simply cut them off and laid them there.  Keith stopped the car and stared.
            "What happened here?"
            We went over it together.  I had been by the spot late the afternoon before and seen only the usual foot high field of grass shaded from the afternoon sun by the line of oaks and wild cherries along the west fence.  We had a few gray clouds that evening, as we do nearly every afternoon and evening in the summer, and maybe a quick shower, but no thunderstorm.  Once the evening deepened into pure night, all was still and warm and humid—nothing unusual at all.  It may be five acres, but the distance from the house near the eastern side and the pines on the west is not really that far.  How had this happened without us knowing it?
            Obviously, a small eddy had blown through the pines, and sixty feet above ground it was stronger than you might imagine had you been standing beneath.  I have seen those eddies before.  Sometimes they stir up the dust out in the field where there is no shelter from the trees, but where the trees are thick, they stay aloft.  For it to tear large green limbs meant it was a strong one, but also localized.  Spread out it would not have done any damage.  And so it left us with a neat pile of limbs that Keith hauled to the fire pit for the coming fall.
            When these eye crises first began to hit me, my whole world turned upside down.  I couldn't keep house or cook, I couldn't teach Bible classes, and I had to close my music studio.  Eventually I missed three months of assemblies because of the pain and the appointments and the surgeries and the medication schedule.  When I did make it back and the announcements began I had a bad moment or two.  That week was a baby shower.  The next week was a wedding.  In two weeks was a potluck.  My poor little me self said, "How can they keep on having fun like this?  Don't they know my world is a shambles?"
            Of course that didn't last, but it did come to the surface.  When you are having your own personal storm, you wonder how anyone else can remain unaffected.  Don't they see how miserable you are and how dire the situation?  Don't they care anything about you at all?  Something selfish inside you wants everyone to cry with you.  Maybe that's where the old saying comes from:  Misery loves company.  I was having my own little storm in a localized area and it wasn't affecting anyone downwind.  Or so it felt.
            Okay, so where do we go with this?  First, I am reminded of the injunction to "Rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep" (Rom 12:15).  We are all to share in one another's burdens.  If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together. (1Cor 12:26).  Remember those who are in prison, as though in prison with them, and those who are mistreated, since you also are in the body (Heb 13:3).  Knowing that others care about what is happening to you makes the trials somewhat easier to bear. 
            But there is always, as I said above, the selfishness that must be overcome.  I may be having a storm in my life.  That does not mean that anyone who does not know about it and act like the same storm is ruling their lives doesn't care.  Too many times we act like we have been specially set up to judge others in how they offer their compassion and help.  If it doesn't come when I want and the way I want, they are unloving.  And that of course, can lead to the excuse so many use for leaving the church.  "You didn't come visit me when I was in the hospital.  The elders didn't call, the preacher didn't hold my hand and pray over me, none of the members sent me a card."  Yet, when pressed in the matter you will usually find out one of two things:  the problem wasn't ignored; it was unknown because it was not shared.  Somehow everyone should just "know"—if I have to say anything, they aren't caring enough.  Or, "no one" is a gross exaggeration.
            And it also insinuates that because no one helped me the way I expected and thought they ought to, that I am now excused for any bad behavior.  For because he himself has suffered when tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted. (Heb 2:18).  That passage seems to imply that one of the purposes of suffering is so we can learn to help others who are also suffering.  That's what it did for the Lord I claim to be following.  I am supposed to be learning something here, not judging others.  And if I really do learn it, then it becomes my responsibility to do better than the ones I think left me high and dry--not castigating them or using them as an excuse for my own bad conduct, but showing them the way.
            Once my mind cleared that morning, I knew that others were affected by my storm.  They came in droves with hugs, welcoming me back to the assembly.  They had sent me off to difficult surgeries with hugs and money in my pockets for the expenses.  They had fasted and prayed during my scariest operation.  They had taken turns carrying me back and forth to the doctor after Keith ran out of leave time to do it.  That is usually the case when you let your brothers and sisters know your needs, when you share your fears and troubles.  If no one knows you are in a storm, that's your fault entirely.  Don't let a few moments of self-absorption steal the joy of brotherhood.
 
Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. (Gal 6:2)
 
Dene Ward

A few years ago, some young parents we knew had a child whom they discovered was legally blind.  It was possible that nothing could be done for that child, even with glasses or lenses, to correct his vision.  Because I was a child who was visually disabled myself, I wrote this letter to them.  I thought it might also be a help to you or someone you know who has a child who is disabled in any way.  Feel free to share it with anyone it might possibly help.
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We were so sorry to hear about your little one’s condition.  When your child is hurt, there is nothing quite like the pain in your heart.  Any loving parent would instantly trade places to spare him.  We will continue to think of you and especially to pray for your comfort, and that your precious little one gets the help he needs, and perhaps even less disability than you have been told.  Our God can indeed work wonders.
            But for now, may I please be so bold as to offer you a little advice?  My current vision problem did not just suddenly start—I was born with it, but no one realized it, not even my parents.  In those days children were not checked as often or as completely as they are today.  As a result, my parents treated me exactly like they would have any child.  The first four years of my life I saw nothing but a blur of color, but I was the only one who knew that, and of course, I thought everyone was that way and did not complain.  I was, in fact, legally blind, yet I still learned to feed and dress myself.  They were able to potty train me.  I memorized quickly because I couldn’t see, and that has stuck with me, at least until now when age has affected it some.  Still I probably remember things better than most people my age.
            Even after they realized something was wrong, the doctor himself did not recognize exactly what the problem was, just that “she has really bad vision.”  You probably know something about magnification in lenses.  My magnification was +17.25 and that only got me to 20/40 on a good day, and that was not even the worst of my issues.  Yet I still learned to function.  When you can’t see well you notice things that other people don’t. 
            Even with correction I couldn’t see faces across a lawn or a parking lot or even a large room.  But I knew people by their walks and hand gestures.  If I had seen them earlier in the day, I remembered the color they wore.  I couldn’t read street signs, but I knew there was a tree on that corner, or a pothole just before the turn.  You adapt when your survival, whether life and death or simply getting along in society, depends on it.
            Even if I eventually lose it all, which is probable, I still plan to be independent as long as possible.  I will probably be a widow someday, but I do not want to live with anyone, or in some care facility, until it is absolutely necessary.  I feel that way because of how I was raised.
            You need to give your child that same spirit of independence.  One thing is good and I say this from experience:  since he was born this way, he will not know what he is missing.  Don’t you make him miserable by treating him like there is something missing.  The best gift you can give him is the one my parents gave me, even if it was accidental:  treat him like a normal child.  He is normal; normal for him!  Help him learn how to get along.  Push him.  Tell him he can do it, even when you aren’t sure he can.  You’d be surprised what can be accomplished simply because a person thinks he can.  This is the loving thing for parents in your position to do.  Babying him is not.  I will be forever grateful that I was not babied—it has made me strong and able to bear far more than most.
            Now comes the hard part:  don’t let anyone baby him, and that includes grandparents.  You may have to put your foot down once in a while.  Do not be afraid to tell them, “No.”  You can do it kindly and with respect, but you have to be the one who stands up for your child against anyone’s misguided attempts to shelter him.  He is your child and God will hold you accountable for his care.  You might need to remind them of that once in a while. 
            Treating him as a normal child will also mean disciplining him that way.  It is hard enough to scold or spank the little hands of a perfectly healthy child.  You must be strong enough to do this.  Your child is counting on you to turn him into a faithful child of God and save his soul.  If you let him have his way because of his “problem,” you are only creating more problems for him to overcome—you are not loving him like you think you are.  I am forever grateful to my parents for not turning me into a selfish, and self-absorbed, adult.
            God has a purpose for all of his children, and your little one will grow up better able to serve those who have disabilities than those who have none ever could.  He will understand and sympathize and think of things that other people do not—another thing that Keith and I have discovered as our disabilities have increased.  No one even thinks to consider what we can or cannot hear, can or cannot see.  Only the disabled give us that consideration. And thus the disabled are enabled to help others.  But he won’t perform that service if you raise him to think that he is the center of the universe because of his disability.
            Please let us know if there is anything we can do for you.  Do not be too proud to use Blind Services or anything else offered to you.  It is not sinful to take help.  It will be nice to know that someone who really deserves our tax money is making use of it.  And do not be afraid, or too proud, to ask for whatever help you need from your brothers and sisters in the Lord, including us.  That’s why God put us here.
            We are praying for you as you take this journey.  It will be hard at times, but other times it will bring you even more joy than the parents of the perfectly healthy children.  Just you wait and see!
 
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. 2Cor 1:3-4

Dene Ward
 

We were climbing to the peak that morning and had been at it for two hours.  It didn't matter that we were in deep shade and temperatures were only in the low 50s.  We had already crammed our jackets in the back pack and tied our sweatshirts around our waists.  We were pouring sweat in our tee shirts.  The higher we climbed, the steeper the trail became.  At my height, I often had to pull on a sapling to manage the natural "steps" the State Park had left for us.
            Suddenly we heard a rustling in the branches above us and a scattering of pebbles rattled down around us.  Up ahead two hikers were headed our way, having started on the other end of the trail and just come over the top.  Ragged, sweating and panting, we must have looked like we needed some encouragement.
            "You're almost there," the woman hiker said.  "The top is really steep but the way down on the other side is all switchbacks."
            It was hard to imagine anything steeper than we had already encountered, but it soon became that way.  Only the knowledge that we were "almost there" kept us going, and the relative ease of the promised switchbacks meant the worst was almost over.
            That is the power of exhortation and encouragement and that is one reason God designed fellowship. 

For I long to see you, that I may impart unto you some spiritual gift, to the end ye may be established; that is, that I with you may be comforted in you, each of us by the other's faith, both yours and mine. (Rom 1:11-12)

For I would have you know how greatly I strive for you, and for them at Laodicea, and for as many as have not seen my face in the flesh; that their hearts may be comforted, (Col 2:1)

Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing. (1Thess 5:11)

But exhort one another every day, as long as it is called “today,” that none of you may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin. (Heb 3:13)

            Even when we do find ourselves alone, He has left us with "a great cloud of witnesses," pictured as spectators cheering us on in Hebrews 12.  Too many times what should be the home crowd might as well be the heart of enemy territory.  Why is it that a young woman announcing her pregnancy brings on every horror story of labor and delivery that every woman around her has heard or experienced?  Probably the same reason that preachers who gather together for moral support in areas where the church is small and scattered wind up trying to top one another with their bad experiences.  Brothers and sisters alike seem to focus on the negative rather than the positive.  Just exactly who will that encourage except the enemy?
            "We all sin all the time."
            "Even the best of us sin every day."
            "It's impossible for even a strong Christian to overcome sin."
            I have heard these things all my life.  They certainly give an unscriptural view of our power to overcome with the help of Christ.  And they made me feel hopeless.  Until I learned better I didn't even try that hard.  That's what focusing on the negative accomplishes—failure.
            God expects better of His children.  He expects us to help each other, not cast stumblingblocks in the way.  And He has some strong words for those who do the latter.
            I might not have made it to the top of the mountain that day if those hikers hadn't come along with encouraging words.  As you pass others making their way up the mountain of life, remember to lighten their steps with a supporting cheer.  You wouldn't want them to give up when they are so close to the top.
 
Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near. (Heb 10:23-25)
 
Dene Ward

The fifth lament is often labeled "a prayer."  This wicked nation has finally admitted its guilt and asks God to "remember," "restore," and "renew" His covenant with them.  What did it take to make them reach this point?  Being shamed and disgraced for all the world to see.  Before, they viewed themselves as the greatest nation in the world because they had been "chosen" by God.  It made them indomitable, they believed.  God would never suffer disgrace Himself and that is exactly what would happen if the people He was supposed to protect were conquered.  Their pride kept them from seeing the Truth—when they broke the covenant, God was no longer bound by it.  His bride had been unfaithful and He cast her off.  Finally, their pride was broken. 

            Remember, O LORD, what has befallen us; look, and see our disgrace! ​
       Our inheritance has been turned over to strangers, our homes to foreigners.
           We have become orphans, fatherless; our mothers are like widows.
           We must pay for the water we drink; the wood we get must be bought...​
          Slaves rule over us; there is none to deliver us from their hand. ​
         We get our bread at the peril of our lives, because of the sword in the wilderness.
          Our skin is hot as an oven with the burning heat of famine.
          Women are raped in Zion, young women in the towns of Judah. ​
          Princes are hung up by their hands; no respect is shown to the elders.
        Young men are compelled to grind at the mill, and boys stagger under loads of wood. ​
          The old men have left the city gate, the young men their music... ​
​          The crown has fallen from our head; woe to us, for we have sinned!
          (Lam 5:1-16)

Now they can admit their sin and their dependence upon God, and ask for His forgiveness.

​          Restore us to yourself, O LORD, that we may be restored! Renew our days as of old-- (Lam 5:21).

And what can we learn from this?  Pride may be one of the worst problems this generation has.  We are imbued with the notion of self-esteem from birth, it seems.  The inability to admit wrong and lower oneself in the presence of One more mighty and righteous has made it impossible to teach anyone about God and His Laws.  Everything is judged by emotion and "the right" to an opinion, instead of black and white Truth. 

I have heard more people, including Christians, arguing with God, denouncing God when things go wrong, telling God exactly what they expect Him to do for them than I ever have before.  "Why, after all my faithfulness?" they ask when a trial comes, as if God owes them a perfect life here on earth. 

There is little appreciation for the seriousness of sin, especially those "little ones."  In fact it has become something to joke about.  The fact that all it took to ruin this world was one bite from a piece of fruit seems to escape everyone's notice.  That one little bite was an open indictment of God by His creation.  "You're just being mean not to let us eat this," Adam and Eve were saying, falling headlong into Satan's trap.

In the church today we have a problem similar to Israel's.  God's people then still showed up every Sabbath Day and offered every sacrifice the Law required.  We think that because we are so careful to keep every ritual exactly the right way that we are immune from any judgment.  We have become "the chosen."  Meanwhile, our hearts are just as bad as our neighbors' and our care in following the Biblical pattern doesn't extend beyond the church house door.  A pattern of lifestyle--"conformed to the image of His Son"—never enters the equation.

The only way to reconcile ourselves to God is to surrender, to admit wrong, and to prostrate ourselves and our hearts before the Most Holy.  "The just shall live by faith,"  God told Habakkuk as the Babylonians approached, a faith that accepts the will of God and stays faithful in all areas of life, no matter how rough things may get. 

"The Babylonians" may yet fall upon us in our lives, either individually or as a group.  I can see the day drawing near in the things happening in our culture.  It's time to reject our pride and self-sufficiency if we hope to avoid the things this people had to endure in whatever fashion they may take.  Perhaps we won't have to learn these things as they did--the hard way.
 
Let us test and examine our ways, and return to the LORD! ​Let us lift up our hearts and hands to God in heaven: (Lam 3:40-41)
 
Dene Ward

For the chastisement of the daughter of my people has been greater than the punishment of Sodom, which was overthrown in a moment, and no hands were wrung for her. (Lam 4:6)
            The fourth Lament may be the hardest one to read.  Many of the ladies in our study shuddered involuntarily as the verses piled horror upon horror in their ears and minds.  Even the pagans were astounded at the wrath of God.  The kings of the earth did not believe, nor any of the inhabitants of the world, that foe or enemy could enter the gates of Jerusalem. (Lam 4:12)
            Then we turned back to the original covenant.  Read Deut 28:28-57 today for your daily reading, and then find the fulfillment of all these things in the fourth Lament, as well as scattered in the prophets.  But here especially, verse after verse, reminds the people exactly why they are experiencing these horrible things. 
            "But we are the chosen people," they said again and again as they ignored prophet after prophet. …He will do nothing; no disaster will come upon us, nor shall we see sword or famine (Jer 5:12). "God won't destroy us," which in their minds meant "God can't destroy us because of all His promises."  They forgot one thing.  Precisely because of the covenant, when they broke their end of it, God was forced to keep His end to remain righteous, and His part was administering justice.  He could not remain holy and faithful and not punish them. 
            And so what is the lesson for us?  We have a new covenant with God.  He has told us several times what will happen with those who have "trodden underfoot" the blood of his Son, the blood of that new covenant.  The religious world wants to assuage your fears with the same sort of talk as the false prophets of old, crying, "Peace, peace, when there is no peace" (Jer 6:14).  A loving God would never punish or destroy; He would never send anyone to hell, they say in all their theological sophistication.
            The writer of the fourth Lament would beg to differ.  God did it once.  He will most certainly do it again.
 
See that you do not refuse him who is speaking. For if they did not escape when they refused him who warned them on earth, much less will we escape if we reject him who warns from heaven. At that time his voice shook the earth, but now he has promised, “Yet once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heavens.” This phrase, “Yet once more,” indicates the removal of things that are shaken—that is, things that have been made—in order that the things that cannot be shaken may remain. Therefore let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire. (Heb 12:25-29)

Dene Ward

The third Lament begins exactly like the first two—long lists of the terrible things God's people had to endure.  But there is a difference here too.  While the first two are written in third person or as Jerusalem herself, this one is personal and individual:  I am the man who has seen affliction under the rod of his wrath; (Lam 3:1).  He goes on to describe his afflictions in detail, but suddenly, in the middle of all this despair, for the first time, he interjects some hope.
            Remember my affliction and my wanderings, the wormwood and the gall! My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me. But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. ​“The LORD is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.” (Lam 3:19-24)
            If you have read the entire lament, the first thing you will think is, "Wait a minute!  The writer just said in verse 18 that his hope has perished."  Evidently, according to Evan and Marie Blackmore in Let Us Search Our Ways, this is a type of construction common to Hebrew poetry where a thought is put out for consideration and then discussed.  Eventually the writer dismisses the notion of a lost hope.  And why?  Because of "the steadfast love of the Lord." 
            "Steadfast love," or "lovingkindness" in other versions, is covenant language.  After a while you begin to recognize certain words and phrases that automatically point to the covenant God made with His people.  Despite the people's failure to keep that covenant, God continues to keep his promises to Abraham and David.  He continues to love these feckless, unfaithful children of His because He is righteous, not because they are.
            The ASV on 3:22 makes this most apparent.  It is of Jehovah's lovingkindnesses [steadfast love] that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. (Lam 3:22)
            Even looking at all the horrible things that have happened to the people, the writer says that without God's love, things would be even worse.  The fact that God's care for them can be seen at all—they are still alive!--gives them hope. 
            Later on the writer lists three reasons to hope:
            1) For the Lord will not cast off forever, (v 31).  Even this well-deserved punishment will come to an end. 
            2) But, though he cause grief, he will have compassion according to the abundance of his steadfast love. (Lam 3:32)  After the punishment God will show pity and compassion on His people.  He will once again bless them.
            3) ​For he does not afflict from his heart or grieve the children of men. (Lam 3:33). God did not send this punishment because it pleased him, but to bring about repentance and to repair the broken relationship.
            And so in the midst of our trials today, we can still have hope.   Remember that it will eventually end.  "This too shall pass," we often say, and it will.  Not only that, but God will have pity on us.   His blessings will not cease.  We may just have to look a little harder for them for a while.  And God never sends trials out of spite.  Even if our trials are not for punishment as theirs were, God always has some goal in mind—strength, clarity, wisdom—something that He expects us to glean from our troubles.  They are never pointless.
            And God's compassion never fails.  No matter how bad things are, His goodness is visible in something close by.  Thorns may pierce, but the roses still bloom.  Bees may sting, but they still make honey.  God has not promised that we will never travel through dark valleys, but He has promised to go through them with us.  Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me" Psalm 23:4.
            Add to all that this one constant:  grace.  The worst day we ever have is better than we deserve.  If you cannot see the hope in your trials, you will ultimately fail them. 
 
The LORD is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him. ​It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD. ​It is good for a man that he bear the yoke in his youth. (Lam 3:25-27)
 
Dene Ward        

Question 4 on our lesson sheet for the second lament was "What is the focus of this lament?" 
             Almost in unison came the answer:  "The anger of God." 
            You couldn't miss it.  The poet uses three Hebrew nouns 7 times along with two verbal expressions for anger.  Then you have the list of things God did in His anger—and there was no quibbling about it:  God did them, not the Babylonians.  He "laid waste his booth," " laid in ruins his meetingplace," "spurned king and priest," "made Zion forget Sabbath," "scorned his altar," and "disowned his sanctuary."  He destroyed the very worship he had set up for his people and the people seemed to have no trouble recognizing that God had every right to do it.  They broke the Covenant.  It was all their fault.
            Today we all want to focus on the God of love.  I know it when I hear things like, "God wants me to be happy.  He would never be angry about such a little thing.  He would never _______________."
            First of all, what God wants is for us to be holy so we can spend an Eternity with him.  We cannot if we are anything less than pure because we couldn't—wouldn't—give up the pleasures of even the smallest of sins, and that means that sometime we won't be very "happy."  "Sin separates you from God."  If, after all the blessings I have received from Him and after the huge sacrifice He made for me, I am so unspiritual that I cannot make a relatively insignificant sacrifice for Him in order to make myself acceptable, I deserve His anger and whatever punishment goes along with it.  Yes, He will too ____________, and even these stubborn, selfish, prideful, ungrateful, unmerciful, and unfaithful people of His eventually figured it out. 
            For us to picture God as a one-dimensional Being who only forgives and loves is nothing short of arrogant.  God as our Creator has every right to be angry with the created ones who break His laws.  When unbelievers blast God for that anger—"How could a just God allow these things to happen?"--don't think you have to apologize for Him.  He doesn't need us to explain it away in order to make Him more palatable to a shallow, ungodly, and disobedient world now any more than He did then.
 
The Lord has swallowed up without mercy all the habitations of Jacob; in his wrath he has broken down the strongholds of the daughter of Judah; he has brought down to the ground in dishonor the kingdom and its rulers. He has cut down in fierce anger all the might of Israel; he has withdrawn from them his right hand in the face of the enemy; he has burned like a flaming fire in Jacob, consuming all around. He has bent his bow like an enemy, with his right hand set like a foe; and he has killed all who were delightful in our eyes in the tent of the daughter of Zion; he has poured out his fury like fire. The Lord has become like an enemy; he has swallowed up Israel; he has swallowed up all its palaces; he has laid in ruins its strongholds, and he has multiplied in the daughter of Judah mourning and lamentation. (Lam 2:2-5)
              
Dene Ward

As we said last time, the first lament is one of overwhelming sadness.  In a mere 22 verses, the writer uses tears, weep, cry, and mourn a total of five times; distress, affliction and misery a total of seven times; sigh and groan a total of four times, and no comfort and desolate a total of seven times.  That is more words describing grief than there are verses in the lament.
            The speaker is Jerusalem herself.  She is no longer a "princess" but a "widow."   She whose streets were once full of people, is now lonely.  Her friends have become her enemies.  Even her roads mourn because they are no longer traversed by happy families traveling to celebrate the Jewish festivals. 
            In verses 8 and 9 she recognizes her sin, but at this point seems more embarrassed at the disgrace than anything else.  The pagans have seen her nakedness so she "groans and turns her face away."  "The Lord is in the right," she says. "I have been very rebellious, BUT…"
            Look at poor little me.  God has been so hard on me.  Everyone is laughing at me.  No one will comfort me.  See my suffering.  Yes, she is suffering badly, far worse than any of us ever have, but something is missing, even in her confession of sin.  She has more to learn about the purpose of punishment and the correct way to view it. 
            However, the grief itself is not wrong.  God has made that plain throughout his Word.  Even righteous men are shown to grieve, Abraham, David, Hezekiah, and Paul among them.  Even Jesus cried.  Paul told the Roman brethren to "Weep with those who weep," not look down on them and rebuke them for crying.  The promise we have ultimately is that God will wipe away all the tears from our eyes—then, not now.
            But our grief is to be different.  "We sorrow not AS those who have no hope" (1 Thes 4:13), not "We sorrow not."  And if on occasion, our grief is caused by our own sin, as with these people, we have an even larger obligation in our grief.  Godly sorrow works repentance (2 Cor 7:10).  These people are still working on that.  Eventually they will get there, but not quite yet.
            God made us to grieve.  It is human nature to miss a loved one, to be frightened by a bad diagnosis, to be overwhelmed by a loss of physical things, and especially by a spiritual loss.  It is even correct to grieve in such a dramatic and lengthy way as these people did.  As sinful as they were, when you read these laments and see what they went through, you still feel compassion and pity for them.
            But as with everything God made, He made grief to serve a purpose.  It can bring repentance, it can bring strength, it can bring clarity, and help us learn priorities.  Use it, not as self-pity, but the way He intended. 
 
Restore our fortunes, O LORD, like streams in the Negeb! ​Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy! He who goes out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, bringing his sheaves with him. (Ps 126:4-6)

Dene Ward