Lament vs. Rumination: How to Exchange Your Pain for God’s Peace

This is a guest post by Rhonda Abellera, one of our coaches in the Sensitive & Strong Community Cafe.

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Mother’s Day 2025 started off at the gym where my husband Charlie and I frequently workout. After 40 minutes on the treadmill, we finished our visit with a session on our favorite massage chairs.

I love this particular type of chair — it’s like a warm waterbed with rollers moving up and down your back and legs.

As I laid there enjoying the massage, my thoughts began to drift. I realized that it was thirty-six years ago to — the day — that my first husband had left me. 

On Mother’s Day weekend. 

Leaving me with a 6-year-old son …

… and a new baby on the way any day.

As the old memories started flooding back like a waterfall, I fought to dismiss the thoughts. I tried to relax, but the old dark memories were too strong, as they assailed my mind, streaming down into my emotions.

Why now?

I wondered.

Why are these memories clouding over my beautiful Mother’s Day? 

We were planning to meet my oldest son and his family — along with my mother — for a wonderful lunch. 

My husband Charlie, who had also been a single parent, always remembers me on Mother’s Day and makes it special.

I anticipated that my youngest son would be calling soon to wish me a Happy Mother’s Day. I knew that he would express his love and appreciation for me, like he always does.

So, why are these old unpleasant memories showing up NOW? 

For the first ten years, Mother’s Day was a cruel trauma of painful memories that sabotaged the special day. I mastered the skill of outwardly expressing joy and celebration on Mother’s Day, but inside, the memories kept carving out a dark place in my heart, holding me hostage.

When Charlie and I married twenty-four years ago, I purposed to put the painful memories behind me as we created new happy memories. 

But now, here in the massage chair, that day comes rushing back to me in living color.

 My six-year-old son and I watching my soon-to-be-ex packing. Him asking, “Can I  take a few towels and a frying pan?”  Me thinking Why not? Your’re already taking away my life.

As we headed home from the gym, I tried to blink those memories away. 

WHY — after all this time — are these memories affecting me so much?

As I began to pray and ask the Lord for guidance, I realized that I had not fully dealt with these specific memories . 

 For 34 years, I have been applying new memories to cover up the old pain, bandaging up wounds that never actually healed.

So even though many years have gone by, those old tormenting memories that have held me captive for far too long … they still keep coming back to my mind.

I knew these were hot buttons trying to trigger me and ruin my Mother’s Day. But what I recognized is that I have just distracted myself from those memories, and have tried to move on.

But these kinds of traumatic memories are so embedded into my past, they don’t move on.

Unhealed hurts refuse to be ignored.

After praying and really seeking the Lord, I realized that these old wounds and traumas needed to be dealt with more deeply.

The process of lamenting is a bit new to me. I’ve been working on it lately. As a Highly Sensitive Person, I’ve realized that the process may take some time and have many layers.  I have found that there is a form of lament that deals with the actual impact of the trauma, but some traumas are extremely complicated with new feelings and emotions coming up after several years.

I had spent years lamenting the fact that he left on Mother’s Day; he packed and never looked back, leaving me to wonder: How do I live without him? Who will be a father to my sons?

That trauma was the initial impact and the things I had to deal with at the time. Back then, I know the Lord heard me and comforted me.

But now after all these years —what was impacting me NOW? Especially since I had remarried, and my boys were now young men.

As I began the journey to reopen the case, to reexamine my feelings and emotions, I realized:

This lament was new. 

I was now feeling the full weight of the fact that my boys never really had their father in their life like they deserved. All their lives he had acted like a distant uncle and never really provided for them.

My lament now was on their behalf. I was feeling heart-broken for what they had lost. This was the “new” hurt and trauma that I had to take to Jesus. 

Now here’s the key:

I am so grateful for my wonderful sons. The oldest has been married 23 years and has three beautiful children. My youngest just got married last year and is building a good life with his new wife.

So why would I be lamenting, here in 2025, about their father leaving us so long ago?

It’s because both things are true.

They missed out on having a wonderful father in their lives, AND (not “but”) they are wonderful young men who love their families and pour their hearts into being the best husbands and fathers they can be.

I am so proud and happy for my boys. AND yet — at the same time — I am so sorry that they missed out on so much.

I  needed to lament the experiences and things they never had.

Is my lament unfounded?

No, Jesus still welcomes me as I weep about our losses. And I cry over our losses EVEN AS I am  grateful for the way things have turned out. 

My lament invites God into my painful past. Which allows brokenness and the holes that pain and suffering created to be filled by the presence of God, by His Holy Spirit. 

After sharing my pain with Jesus, I was assured in my heart that He had already provided for and taken care of the things I was now lamenting about.

Psalm 107:19-20, describes how Jesus comes and brings healing: “Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble, and He saved them out of their distresses. He sent His word and healed them and delivered them from their destructions.”

My definition of lamenting is casting all my cares on Jesus. Giving Him the full brunt of my pain, using words, naming emotions and being real with Him. 

And here’s what I’ve found out:

He doesn’t flinch.

He doesn’t act disgusted or surprised. 

He simply opens His arms and welcomes me into His presence, soothing my hurt and healing my pain.

And I can go to him in lament, as often as I need …

… for as long as it takes.

A Practical Resource for You:

Rhonda recently facilitated a powerful workshop called “From Highjacked to Held: The Transforming Power of Lament” in the Sensitive & Strong Community Cafe.

One result of our discussion was this chart showing the difference between rumination vs. lament (simply click the image below to download the PDF) ⤵️