The ancient voice of Lamentations speaks to a particular kind of anguish—the cry of those whose suffering goes unwitnessed, or whose suffering is witnessed but passes quickly from the world’s attention. Today’s news carries images of bridges collapsing into flame, journalists who died bringing stories to light, women recounting violence, newsrooms detained without explanation, entire regions caught in cycles of conflict. These are not abstractions. Lamentations does not rush to theodicy or explanation; it simply insists that sorrow be seen, that witness be borne, that the afflicted not be passed by in silence. To read these headlines is to be invited—not to solve, but to attend; not to explain away, but to look directly at what is broken.