1.14.2026

My mother was raised in the hills and the hollows around Paint Rock Valley in Jackson County, Alabama.  As much as she loved Jesus and as much as she was always a joyful person, her taste in non-religious music was pretty grim. 

She grew up singing songs with titles like “Wreck on the Highway,” and “The Banks of the Ohio.” Don’t know them? Please look them up - they’re awful! 

My mother grew up with and was a distant cousin to Curly Putman (he’s also the familial link between me and Steve Lilly, who is also from the same valley). He wrote songs like “The Green Green Grass of Home,” “D-I-V-O-R-C-E,” and “He Stopped Loving Her Today.” There must have been something in that mountain water!  “Green, Green Grass,” as sweet and sentimental a song as it is,  has a final verse that most recordings leave off. In the original version, the singer wakes up and it’s all a dream, and he’s stuck in prison with two guards and a padre, knowing the time has come when “they lay me beneath the green, green grass of home.”

No! Deliver me from all that!

I don’t know if it’s because I was exposed to so much dreary music when I was little, but I can’t stand sad songs. But that doesn’t change the fact that life is often difficult. Those country songs as well as the “blues” and many other musical traditions arose out of the hard knocks of life. To “lament” is to look at life realistically and not try to paint an over-rosy picture. 

We see this is the book of Psalms as well. The great majority of our psalms are laments (I call them “life is terrible” psalms). In these verses, the psalmists are complaining that life is not going the way it’s supposed to go.  

In last week’s newsletter, I wrote about the “life is wonderful” psalms. These psalms sum up life by saying, “The Lord watches over the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked will perish.”  Which is a pretty tidy way of looking at life, isn’t it!

But what about those times when our life experience is the exact opposite of that? What about times when the righteous perish but the wicked prosper? What about those times?

That’s where the “laments” come in. They recognize that life isn’t the way God promised, and they call on God — in no uncertain terms — to do something about it. Psalm 13 is a great example:

How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?

    How long will you hide your face from me?

2 How long must I bear pain in my soul

    and have sorrow in my heart all day long?

How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?

With its repeated cries of “how long,” this is often called the “howling” psalm. From reading these verses, it is clear that life is terrible for the psalmist, and he cries out to God to do something about it. 

It might be helpful when reading laments to look for the four basic parts of a lament (not all the psalms will have all four, but use it as a basic guide): Turning to God (“How long, O Lord”), Complaining (“Will you forget me forever?”), Asking (“Give light to my eyes” vs. 3); and Trusting (“But I trusted” vs. 5).

That last one, “trusting,” is the difference between something like “The Green Green Grass of Home” and the “howling psalm.”  “The Green, Green Grass of Home” ends in the penitentiary and the “howling psalm” ends in hope! Look how this short psalm ends:

But I trusted in your steadfast love;

    my heart shall rejoice in your salvation.

6 I will sing to the Lord

    because he has dealt bountifully with me.

All of the laments end on a positive note! As you read them, watch for that turning point of trust where the psalmist celebrates God’s deliverance. 

Now, there is one exception: Psalm 88. It’s written by someone who has been abandoned by everyone, and it ends with a sob: “My only companion — darkness.” Now, that’s a low place to be. Yet, as terrible the psalmist’s situation may be, the psalmist never gives up hope. The psalm still is addressed to “O Lord, God of my salvation.” 

So, how and why do we read these complaining psalms? 

The laments give us permission and also give us the language to rage to God over unjust or difficult times. They acknowledge the truth of what we’re feeling, even if those feelings seem “incorrect.” Not only that, but they give us a framework for our prayers, moving from turning to God, to complaining, to asking, and finally to trusting or praising, preventing festering wounds and resentment. They offer us hope by taking us on a journey from “life is terrible” to “life is wonderful,” because they are anchored in God's presence and promises, even when an immediate answer isn't seen.

When we’re reading the laments and we are blessed to not have anything to lament about, we can always think of who we might need to lament for (I may say more about this next week). And reading them reminds us we’re not alone by connecting us with people throughout history who have experienced deep suffering and brought it to God. 

And it turns our prayers into more vivid, specific dialogue with God instead of just some “shopping list.” More on laments next week!

Blessings,

Pastor Terry

PS - Now the story goes that Curly Putman told mom that “Green, Green Grass” was supposed to be about her. The line “Down the lane  I walk with my sweet Mary, hair of gold and lips like cherries” was supposed to be “Down the lane I walk with my sweet Louise,” but he had to change it because Mary rhymes with cherry and the only thing he could think of to rhyme with Louise was fleas. I’m not sure any of that’s true, but it’s what my dad told me.