Not Yet As They Ought To Be

            This world is not as it ought to be. It is the sobering truth of our present reality. We can see it every day. We can hear it, feel it, touch it, experience it. We see the see wind, rain, sea, and earth rise up against us. We see nations take arms against other nations. We see sickness and disease decimate entire populations and generations. We see the world’s leadership consistently siding with evil, choosing to betray the ways of the Lord. It a disheartening realization: this world and this life as we know it has been joined together with a very real, tangible, and seemingly unremovable darkness. We often attempt to live as if that is not true, pretend that it does not exist. We live with undeliverable expectations, and unrealistic hopes that this world will somehow deliver us the all-fulfilling fruit of the paradise we pretend it is, yet hidden deep within us, know it will never be. Why do we do this? Why do we knowingly attempt to deceive ourselves? Why do we live by a lie that will only continue to leave us grieved, saddened, and inevitably disappointed? It is because the acceptance of the truth that this world is not as it ought to be forces us to accept an even graver, harder-cutting truth: we are also not as we ought to be. We see this truth revealed in our unreconciled relationships, in our flesh’s vulnerability to temptation, in our soul’s ability to be enticed by sin, in our perverse thoughts, in our destructive words. Unable to accept this present reality for ourselves, we then demand that this world, our spouse, our co-workers, and our children live up to the expectations which are suitable only for a perfect paradise in whose rules we deceive ourselves into believing we live by. Yet if we are honest with ourselves, we know that by world’s standards, we are irredeemably broken, hope for improvement is void within our own ability, and any paradise in this life is nothing but a façade. 

            How much longer Lord? Why does evil continually prevail? Why is real justice consistently thwarted? Why is evil praised and righteous attacked? Why is the Lord distant, uninterested, and unresponsive to our desperate cries for help? In honest moments before the Lord, these are the prayers that have often and increasingly begun to rise from my lips. Am I the only one that often doesn’t know what to pray except, “Come quickly, Lord Jesus”? I recently was reading through Habakkuk and the cries and complaints of this prophet resonated with me in a way that they never have before. “O Lord, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not hear? Or cry to you “Violence!” and you will not save? Why do you make me see iniquity, and why do you idly look at wrong? Destruction and violence are before me; strife and contention arise. So the law is paralyzed, and justice never goes forth. For the wicked surround the righteous, so justice goes forth perverted.” This world is not as it ought to be. I am not as I ought to be. Perhaps it was the result of the many unsolicited circumstances of the past year, but while I was reading through that passage, the desperate tone and lamenting cries by Habakkuk seemed to be echoes of the thoughts and cries coming from my own heart. “How long oh Lord? Why does evil prevail? Why is justice thwarted?

            It is in moments of questioning that I am forced to, in faith, cling tightly to the promises I know to be true. I am thankful to know the truth that this world is not my home. I have a hope outside of this world. I have a Savior willing and able to save me from the sin residing within me. But how often do those truths appear to represent my present walk in this world? “Jesus, I know that you are good, but right now it feels like you aren’t. Jesus, I know that you are always near, but why do you now remain distant. Jesus, I know that you speak, but why do you now remain silent? Jesus, I know that you care for me, but why do I now sit uncomforted in my sorrows? How long must I wait for the promises spoken to be revealed?” The answers to those questions don’t often come. 

            While Habakkuk opens with the cries of a sorrowful prophet, the miracle comes at the end. Not through the alleviation of present circumstances or in the thwarting of an impending invasion, but in the grace of God that allows that same prophet to rejoice in the Lord even in the midst of difficult circumstances. “Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold, and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. God, The Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer’s; he makes me tread on my high places.”

            Sometimes I will sit and daydream about the moment, when for the first time, I will be able to set my eyes on Jesus. My heart begins to leap at just the thought of it. It is the satisfaction of everything I have ever longed for in this life. It is the answer to every question I have ever asked. It is the fulfilment of every promise spoken. It is exactly what I was created for. It is right where I belong. My heart is getting restless for it. Oh how everything in this life pales in comparison to even just the thought of what that moment will be like. So often I am awed by the beauty in the mountains, comforted by the hug of a close friend, enticed by the melody of beautiful songs of worship or enthralled by the cyclical cycle of evening sunsets. Yet every moment we would label as “heaven on earth” pales in comparison to just a moment spent with Jesus. One moment in paradise. One moment where everything is as it ought to be.

            I can begin to understand what Paul meant when he wrote, “Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish in order that I may gain Christ….I have learned to be satisfied in any circumstance. I know what it means to lack, and I know what it means to experience overwhelming abundance. For I’m trained in the secret of overcoming all things, whether in fullness of in hunger. And I find that the strength of Christ’s explosive power infuses me to conquer every difficulty.” Paul knew that the secret to the ultimate satisfaction we constantly seek is not found in our external circumstances or in the façade of unachievable paradise, but only in relationship with Jesus. In every situation, whether in fullness or in lack Jesus was with him. In every moment, the pursuit of Jesus was worth the loss of all things. In every moment, the presence of the Lord sustained him. In every moment, he rejoiced. 

            So today, I choose to rejoice. Not in the reality of our worldly situation. Not in the false ideology that this world and myself are as they ought to be. Not even in the moments where the pain momentarily seems to lift. No. I rejoice in the fact that there is not a single situation or circumstance int this world by which the miracle-working power of grace is withheld from me. Grace in the suffering that sends me crying for the only one who can bring lasting comfort. Grace in the moments of sinful failings that send me running to the only one who embodies perfect righteousness. Grace in the moments of questioning that sends me running to the one whom I know to be true. A grace in life’s most brutal moments that sends me running to the restorer of peace. A grace in moments when they are not as they ought to be that sends me running to the one who I know to be good. I have no need to lie about the dark realities of this world or the sinful nature of my own heart. I have no need to hide my questions or accept a false premise. The Lord is my strength. I will take joy in the God of my salvation.