Give ear, our God, and hear; open your eyes and see the desolation of the city that bears your Name. We do not make requests of you because we are righteous, but because of your great mercy. Lord, listen! Lord, forgive! Lord, hear and act! For your sake, my God, do not delay, because your city and your people bear your Name.
Grief is heavy. Its gravity pulls us down. This is where we find Daniel of the Old Testament upon waking from the strange vision of a ram, a goat, and the rebellion and persecution of God’s people. “I, Daniel, was worn out. I lay exhausted for several days” (Daniel 8:27). Though he eventually got up and went about the king’s business, he stayed, “appalled by the vision” that was “beyond understanding” (Daniel 8:27).
In the first year of a new Babylonian king’s reign, after studying the Book of Jeremiah, Daniel understands the rebellion and persecution of God’s people - the desolation of Jerusalem - will last seventy years (Daniel 9:2). Grief-stricken once more, he does not lay down. He prays.
If you know grief, you know it can render you speechless one minute and blinded by rage the next. In attempting to pray, you go numb. Or, out of the blue, every feeling long-stored-up is a deluge. Daniel’s deluge acknowledges the goodness and faithfulness of God, and it confesses the wickedness and unfaithfulness of God’s people. Then he prays: “Give ear, our God, and hear; open your eyes and see the desolation of the city that bears your Name. We do not make requests of you because we are righteous, but because of your great mercy. Lord, listen! Lord, forgive! Lord, hear and act! For your sake, my God, do not delay, because your city and your people bear your Name” (Daniel 9:18-19).
Boldly - and with no one else to turn to - Daniel asks for God’s compassion. Not because he and his countrymen deserve it but because God is good. God is “close to the broken-hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18). He is “compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love” (Psalm 103:8). For those whom he loves, “he will see that they get justice” (Luke 18:8).
No matter how you grieve - no matter the depth of sorrow or how wild the rage or numb the pain - he is waiting without judgement, full of understanding and love. He is there for the prayer like a deluge when at last you find your words. He reads your heart when it’s numb and complicated even to you. Grief is heavy, but our God is strong enough.
God, we confess our hearts are self-serving and undeserving of your compassion. But we declare you are Perfect Love and full of compassion, slow to anger and waiting to hear from us, even when we’ve done wrong, even when the words won’t come. Because of your righteousness, you understand what we cannot put into words. And you hear us when we cry out. When grief brings us to the end of ourselves, may we find you. Ready to help and restore us. In Jesus’ name, amen.