When we survey a day’s worth of suffering—illness spreading across borders, peace proposals rejected, prisoners collapsing in captivity, patients turned away from hospitals, journalists beaten for speaking truth—it is easy to feel the weight of a world that has cast off mercy. Yet the book of Lamentations, written amid the ruins of Jerusalem, does not counsel despair but rather holds fast to a difficult truth: even grief does not separate us from God’s compassion. The verse does not promise that suffering will end quickly or that justice will arrive on our timeline, only that the mercies of the Lord are renewed each day, and that those who suffer are not forgotten. In such a day, we might ask what it means to be vessels of that mercy toward one another—toward those isolated with illness, those held unjustly, those denied care, those caught between warring powers.