Finding Hope in Lamentations
- Tea Deak
- Oct 26
- 3 min read
Yesterday, our church wrapped up an intensive two-week educational program that it organizes annually, known as “Wave,” which, among other things, involves teaching English from Basic to B2 level. Looking back on the 16th Wave program, there are countless stories that each volunteer could share. However, one unfinished story has touched my heart, consistently inspiring hope within me. Last week, I struggled with a question: Can hope be found in the lamentations of those who have survived atrocities?
This year, we had a participant who survived the atrocity in Srebrenica in 1995. While his pregnant wife boarded a bus to leave Srebrenica, he was on a "death trail" to Tuzla, hoping to survive. His wife left with two male relatives who were not permitted to board the bus before the killings began. To this day, she is traumatized, wondering if she could have done something differently to save the two relatives who stayed behind in Srebrenica and were soon killed.
Amir, a survivor, came to our project this year. There was not a single day that we spoke when he did not keep coming back to the tragic story that happened to him and his family in '95.
In one of my classes, I felt inspired to share Maya Angelou's poem "Still I Rise," as she is a rape survivor. The following day, Amir shared that he felt depressed and cried while translating the poem at home. It brought back unresolved issues and inner pain from 30 years ago. He reflected on why he survived when other male family members and friends did not. He found his answer in the poem's final stanza: "I am the dream and the hope of the slave." As he worked through the pain of the trauma, he discovered a new purpose in life: to inspire hope.
I am uncertain how this hope will manifest in Amir's life or his family's, but I also felt hopeful. That day, I returned home and looked at a reproduction of a painting given to me 10 years ago by my late friend, Phyllis, to pass on to someone from Srebrenica. The artwork was created by a Christian artist from the UK who, upon watching the news on BBC, prayed for the people of Srebrenica. During his prayer, he envisioned something in a place of worship and decided to paint that vision.
He saw light coming from sky, with a white dove, while new wild flowers were springing forth. What he saw in a place of prayer brought him hope and he painted it. My friend bought the reproduction and gave it to me to give it someone from Srebrenica. Meanwhile my friend died, and the painting remained on my wall, until I met Amir. I decided it was finally time to pass on the painting to someone else while remaining hopeful that faith and hope can overcome division and hate in this part of the world.
As we embark on a hopeful start to the new week, I invite you to join me in reading the book of Lamentations. It might seem improbable to find steadfast hope in a book filled with laments, but I encourage you to delve into the Hebrew concept of hope known as "yachal."
The Hebrew word "yachal" means to be pained, stay, tarry, trust, wait, and hope. This particular concept emphasizes the rising of inner strength and trust in God while painfully tarrying.
This week, as you read the book of Lamentations, I invite you to pray for
someone you know who has experienced trauma. If you have gone through something traumatic and need prayers, please don't hesitate to reach out to me with a prayer request.
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