There is a children’s book entitled, “Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.” In the book, Alexander is a boy whose day just goes wrong. From wake-up to bedtime, nothing goes Alexander’s way. His brothers find prizes in their breakfast cereal; he does not. His teacher tells him he is singing too loudly. There is no dessert in his lunch bag. He falls in a muddy puddle after school. Dinner includes lima beans. His favorite pajamas are in the laundry. On their own, each of these events might be just an annoyance. Together, they add up to a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

We’ve all been there, haven’t we? The milk for your cereal has turned sour. You spill coffee on your shirt on your way out the door. Another driver cuts you off. Your kid realizes halfway to school that it’s spirit day and they left their outfit at home. You dutifully got your flu shot and now your arm aches. There’s a long line when you go out for lunch, and when you get to the front they’re out of what you wanted. There’s construction you didn’t expect, and you’re late to book club. The cat had a hairball. The clerk at the grocery store is new and doesn’t know how to take your coupon. Dinner is leftovers, again.

At the point that you find yourself having a “terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day,” you’ve got a few options. You can wallow in self-pity. You can get snippy and rude with everyone around you. You can also lament.

Lament, to put it simply, is telling the truth about what’s wrong. You can lament about the sour milk or the hairball. You can also lament the hospice referral, or the looming threat of war, or rent going up. When we lament, we say that the world is not the way it should be; it is not the way God dreams it could be. Lament isn’t whining; whining puts ourselves at the center of attention. Lament is a kind of prayer. Lament points out sadness, injustice, and brokenness, both great and small. Lament takes our sorrow and gives it to God, helping us remember that God has promised to bear our pain and, in time, make all broken things whole again.

I learned a lot about lament from a summer I spent interning with the chaplains department at a hospital mental health unit. Every week, I helped lead a group session for the patients. And every week, they would ask to sing this hymn:

What a friend we have in Jesus,
all our sins and griefs to bear!
What a privilege to carry
everything to God in prayer!
O what peace we often forfeit,
O what needless pain we bear,
all because we do not carry
everything to God in prayer!
Have we trials and temptations?
Is there trouble anywhere?
We should never be discouraged;
take it to the Lord in prayer!
Can we find a friend so faithful
who will all our sorrows share?
Jesus knows our every weakness;
take it to the Lord in prayer!
Are we weak and heavy laden,
cumbered with a load of care?
Precious Savior, still our refuge--
take it to the Lord in prayer!
Do your friends despise, forsake you?
Take it to the Lord in prayer!
In his arms he'll take and shield you;
you will find a solace there.

On the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days– take it to Jesus. He will be your refuge, your solace, your friend.