Lament Within the Advent Season

I have been reading A Sacred Sorrow as part of my internship at Sari Bari. It shines light on the way we can lament in a healthy way and turn the lament into worship. God is first and for most with us and when we lament He is listening. Everyday I see things on the streets of Kolkata that I want to lament and cry out to God about the injustice, brokenness, sorrow of the child eating food out of the trash pile or men beating each other up on the streets. All around me I want to lament the small things like one of the Sari Bari women being sick and the big things like women forced to sell their bodies. For me, it is hard to actually take in and process what I see so I have to compartmentalize and numb myself so I can continue through my day. I look into the eyes of children begging and tell them no. I pass the women working the line and all I have to offer them is a smile. I walk past people sleeping on the street or passed out in the gutter on the way to my comfortable flat. I am still figuring out how to process and lament these things. As I numb the bad, the good is also beginning to dull. 

On Sunday, a group of us came together to celebrate the second Sunday of Advent. A season of expectant waiting for the coming Savior who would bring justice and peace to a broken world. Someone pointed out they would not want to be Mary as she gave birth to this little baby who the world would crucify. Mary would have been full of lament as people saw her baby growing knowing she wasn't married. Lament was probably rolling off her tongue as she watched her son brutally murdered on a hill. In this season of Advent, I want to celebrate the ways the Kingdom of God has already come in Kolkata. The steps towards freedom the women at Sari Bari have taken on a daily basis. I want to lament the ways I am still waiting for Jesus to come. The women still trapped in the trade and are losing hope of a way out. I pray for eyes to more clearly see Jesus in the lanes of Kolkata. I pray for a heat that can lament the hard stuff and then the joy to turn it into worship. I sit with open hands during this season of expectant waiting.