Once upon a time there were two sisters: Loreta the Lamenter and Thelma the Thanksgiver. When they were young, they did almost everything together. They were practically inseparable. They were like rice and beans. They were like tortillas and avocado.
As they grew, they began to notice and embrace each other’s differences. There was no tension between the two, no enmity, no envy.
Sadly, the sisters grew up in a church that treated the sisters very differently. Loretta would be left alone in the nursery. She’d get regular visits from the pastor and the elders. But she was mostly treated like an eyesore. People were uncomfortable around her. Best to keep her out of worship.
In contrast, Thelma would be ushered to the front of the sanctuary and given a microphone at every possible opportunity: “Tell us more about how thankful you are!”
Since this was the only church the sisters had ever known, they initially accepted it as normal. But deep down, they BOTH felt burdened with the same question: “Why me? What have I done to deserve this?”
Eventually Thelma did the only thing she felt she could do. She slowly stopped attending the worship service, preferring to visit the nursery where Loretta was.
They would still be there to this day if not for a discovery that changed everything. One day, down in that nursery, the sisters stumbled upon a book of song-prayers from the Bible. It was dusty and hard to read. It was called “Psalms.”
As they read, their eyes grew wide. “This one is perfect for you, Thelma!” “But Loretta, look at all these others that have clearly been written just for you!”
Occasionally they grew uncomfortable. “Is it ok to sing a song like this?” They checked the author to make sure. It just said, “God.”
The sisters began to sing. The truth is that there were far more songs for Loretta to sing, but Thelma didn’t mind playing a supporting role. It wasn’t a competition. They sang and they sang, softly at first, and then more loudly.
The song rose up towards heaven but not before making a quick detour to the sanctuary. The congregation’s own singing fell silent. The organist sat with his mouth wide open; his eyes slowly stretched up to heaven. The pastor looked down at his own copy of the Psalms and a tear rolled down his nose.
If you’ve gotten to know my writing or my preaching, there is at least a chance that you think of me as “Mr. Lament” or “Rev. Lament” or something like that. It’s my thing.
I’ve preached more frequently from Lament Psalms than any other category of Psalm. I’ve led lament-writing workshops. I see intrinsic value in lament. It’s an honest, intimate expression of faith when one is suffering.
But I also value lament because it makes true thanksgiving possible. Check any thanksgiving Psalm. They all contain a lament in the past tense. “I was in trouble. I called out to God… and here’s how God responded.” Thanksgiving isn’t about forgetting the bad old days. It’s not about drawing you out of grief. It’s about remembering the bad old days. In Biblical Thanksgiving, you are supposed to remember the past lament. You remember how God responded to the cries of anguish.
It is my belief that churches that create space for lament will also see an increase in thanksgiving. Lament literally makes thanksgiving possible. I’m also convinced that thanksgiving, in turn, will itself result in EVEN MORE lament! Why? Because we want God to repeat his mighty acts! We see a glimpse of God’s goodness and we want to see even more!
At the heart of both lament and thanksgiving is the belief in an active God who rules over history. Both of these prayers presuppose a God who is involved in human affairs, even though it is always hard to see his footsteps.
Your path led through the sea,
your way through the mighty waters,
though your footprints were not seen.
Psalm 77:19
It is in this spirit of bewildered joy that I come to you today to share some really good news that my family received yesterday. My mom’s most recent blood work was unable to detect any cancer!
This fact, in and of itself isn’t terribly new. My mom has received many such results over the past year. This one is special, however. My mom has been off of the maintenance chemotherapy for a little over 3 months. So, it felt a bit like a milestone in a way that the other tests weren’t.
We are bewildered. We are like those who dream, but in a good way.
On so many occasions over the past 2.5 years, I’ve asked God a question along with the Lorettas of the world. “Why us? What have we done to deserve this?”
Today, I find myself asking the same question, this time alongside the Thelmas of the world. I don’t think that I’ll get a clear answer to that question, but I keep asking it.
If you want a blow-by-blow account over the years, you can read the CaringBridge site that my dad maintains.
But this is my attempt to describe the experience of the past 2.5 years:
For such a long time, it felt like death was crouching right outside the door, hunting us. Chaos was on all sides. But into the deadly chaos, God spoke a word of resurrection; God spoke life to us. God surrounded us with friends, family and churches. God gave wisdom to the doctors… so much wisdom. God preformed multiple major miracles. Death no longer stalks us quite so closely. It’s moved to a different neighborhood.
We are not under any delusions that the “resurrection” we’ve experienced is permanent. Death comes, as death is wont to do. But I do think that the resurrection joy that we’re experiencing right now is a tiny taste of the final day in which death itself will die. In a real way, both the bad things in life and the good things in life make us long for that day all the more fervently. Both Loretta and Thelma want abundant resurrection life for themselves and for everyone around them.
What does this mean for me? The clean bill of health means that I can stay longer in Costa Rica, worry free. It means I can spend more time here, sending out roots, deepening my connection to this place.
What does this mean for my mom? I asked her. She’s already making plans to travel. A different result would have likely meant a lot more treatment. Yesterday’s news means that she gets to spend more time doing the things that she loves.
Please join us in celebrating the taste of resurrection that we are savoring. Also join us in lamenting with the many people who are grieving right now. So many people close to us are struggling with cancer. So many others have lost loved ones to cancer. It’s a terrible disease.
Death isn’t dead yet. That’s why Loretta and Thelma belong together.
Integral Missions 
Giving thanks with you! Glory to God!
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