Comfort Is Not The Agenda

Posted by Jim Thornber on November 23, 2020
Posted in: Christian Spirituality. Tagged: , , , , . Leave a comment

One of the criminals hanging beside him scoffed, “So you’re the Messiah, are you? Prove it by saving yourself—and us, too, while you’re at it!” (Luke 23:39)

One of the highlights of my week is meeting with pastors from other churches for coffee on Friday mornings. There is no plan or schedule to these meetings other than friendship, but we also gather knowing we have a unique position in our town and only other pastors will understand our victories and struggles.

A couple of weeks ago, one of the pastors referenced the thief on the cross who scoffed at Jesus, saying, “So you’re the Messiah, are you? Prove it by saving yourself—and us, too, while you’re at it!” After he quoted the thief I said, “And here we are today, still trying to tell God how to be God!”

As soon as I said this it struck me how often I have done the same thing as the thief. “If you were really THIS kind of God,” I would think, “then you would do THIS for me.” And, of course, this makes me a thief who is trying to steal the true character of God and replace it with a god of my making.  

It’s a good thing our society no longer hangs thieves.

If anyone is wondering, I have plenty of suggestions on how God can make me comfortable and answer my prayers. But then, I think about Jesus. As He hung upon the cross, Jesus wasn’t concerned with His comfort. Instead, He was concerned with obeying God’s agenda for His life.

Furthermore, it’s easy for me to admit I’ve lived a comfortable life. I’ve never known the type of suffering that took place in Europe during World War II. I’ve never battled cancer or been kidnapped. I’ve never faced homelessness or starvation, never been in a car crash or lost a limb in an accident, and for those things I am grateful.

The worst pain I have ever experienced is the loss of my wife, Barbara, who died on September 12, 2020 from complications of COVID-19. I can find no words that adequately describe the pain of losing a soul mate, a best friend, the one God created to be my equal in life.

Still, I trust God will continue to work in my life as I go forward, the same way He worked in our life as I look back at the amazing twenty-six years I had with Barbara.    

After years of wanting God to fulfill my will, I’ve finally come to accept that God’s agenda for my life is not to make me comfortable, but to help conform me into the image of Christ (Rom. 8:29). Therefore, I cannot honestly say, “LORD, your will be done in me,” then complain when His will makes me uncomfortable.

Losing a spouse is devastating, but losing my perspective on God’s magnificent goodness and love would be worse. Therefore, I’ve decided keep these words of Habakkuk constantly on my mind: “Yet I will rejoice in the LORD! I will be joyful in the God of my salvation! The Sovereign LORD is my strength!” (Hab. 3:18-19).

Although I am still mourning, I mourn with hope, and “hope does not disappoint” (Romans 5:5). Instead, hope brings me the comfort only God can provide in a season of tremendous loss, for now I truly understand the Sovereign Lord is my strength.

Going Where Others Cannot

Posted by Jim Thornber on October 22, 2020
Posted in: Christian Spirituality. Tagged: , , , . 2 Comments

“As evening came, Jesus said to his disciples, ‘Let’s cross to the other side of the lake. So they took Jesus in the boat and started out, leaving the crowds behind (although other boats followed). (Mark 4:35-36)

            Many people I know can look back at their lives and wonder what happened to that friend who was so important to them at one time, and now they are no longer part of their life. Me, too. Then I read this passage in Mark and I began to understand.      

            In this story we see Jesus telling His disciples to row Him across the Sea of Galilee. Perhaps they had an idea they were headed to Gentile territory, but they certainly didn’t know they would visit burial caves and witness Jesus heal a man who had a legion of demons living in him.

            But that’s not my point. What interests me in this passage is the way other boats followed, but we have no record of those people getting out of their boats and accompanying Jesus to the cemetery. And from what I can see, there was nothing preventing them from going onshore with Jesus. I believe this teaches us an important and comforting lesson: Not everyone who says they are a follower of Jesus is willing to go where Jesus is leading you.

When I was in Bible College, I had a friend who was very instrumental in my life. He was older than I was and raised in a Christian home—an advantage I did not have. I depended upon his experience with the Lord, his wisdom regarding the ways of the world and his godly counsel. He was one of the few people who wholeheartedly supported my decision to leave Southern California and join a monastery in Eureka Springs, AR. Later when I was praying about marrying Barbara, he was one of the friends I relied upon to guide my thinking and help me understand what I going to face as a married man. He said, “She loves you. Marry her.” And I did.

            Shortly after I started my Master’s degree, this friend stopped being my friend. He cut off all communication with me and wouldn’t talk to Barbara or me. Eventually, he left his wife and started his life over in another part of the country.

            This has bothered me for many years. Every few years he will text me or send an email, but fifteen years later, he still will not talk to me. I respect his decision and do not try to contact him. His ex-wife tells me what he thinks of me, but that’s all I know and all I need to know at this time. I finally came to understand that Jesus was leading Barbara and me in a direction—a direction this onetime friend was not willing to follow. He could no longer be my mentor and confident, because what I was going to experience as a disciple of Christ did not include him.

            This gives me a bit of comfort, knowing it may not have been anything I did, but something God did.

            Most of us can look back and wonder what happened to that important friend we once had. We remember it as a significant relationship, one we could see God’s hand orchestrating, supplying us with what we needed as a young Christian, guiding our thoughts and actions into a better understanding of God’s ways. Then slowly, or in my case, suddenly, that person is no longer there. God was calling us to a place others could not or would not follow.

Abraham experienced a similar situation as he prepared to obey God by sacrificing his only son Isaac. He told his servants, “Stay here with the donkey. The boy and I will travel a little farther. We will worship there, and then we will come right back.” (Gen. 22:5).

Neither my former friend nor the servants of Abraham were bad people. I believe my friend is still serving God in his own capacity; he’s just not doing that by my side, and that is okay. Conversely, perhaps God led my friend in a direction I could not follow.

I write this hoping it brings you some comfort and insight into your own former relationships. It took me a while, but I no longer carry the pain of a friendship that no longer exists. I choose to believe that what I had was what I needed, and now I no longer need what I had. “The Lord gave me what I had, and the Lord has taken it away. Praise the name of the Lord!” (Job 1:21).

Thoughts On The Passing Of My Wife

Posted by Jim Thornber on September 18, 2020
Posted in: Christian Spirituality. Tagged: , , , . 8 Comments

(On September 12, 2020, my bride, my soulmate, my best friend for over 26 years passed away from complications of COVID-19. She was 66. The following blog is a few years old, but it is one of the best articles I wrote that describes the wonderful life we had together. I am grateful for the AMAZING life we shared. “Dance, my Beloved. Dance the Eternal Dance!”)

 

Not too long after Barbara and I were married, we cooked our first Thanksgiving turkey. It wasn’t too bad for a first time effort and, although I really don’t remember it, I’m sure the whole meal was a joy. I don’t remember anyone getting sick, so that’s a plus! I do remember, however, that after I carved the turkey, I did the traditional thing and set the wishbone aside to dry on the windowsill in the kitchen.

After a few weeks we decided the wishbone was ready to be tested. Barbara took one end and I took another. After making our “wishes,” we pulled at the wishbone, only to have it split evenly right up the middle. No winners. No losers. Just us, still the same. We looked at each other, then at the pieces of bone in our hands, then back at each other and nervously laughed.

I don’t often get weirdly spiritual, as in looking for God trying to get my attention behind every strange happening or offbeat coincidence. Still, Barbara and I knew immediately what the Lord was saying, and we haven’t shared a wishbone since. Not once. So, if you think we are weird spiritual fanatics, at least we are weird together and we don’t have only one of us taking all the blame.

From this simple incident we learned two valuable lessons. First, the success of our marriage has nothing to do with luck and even less to do with wishing. There is nothing superstitious, coincidental, fortuitous or haphazard about a successful marriage. A strong, committed relationship is a choice we make, every single day, for the rest of our lives. Furthermore, I didn’t get “lucky” finding Barbara. My first priority was to follow God’s direction in my life, not find a wife. With that priority set, God brought the right woman into my life. Luck is not a factor when God is placed first.

Second, Barbara and I are not in competition. I do not “win” when she “loses.” I am not the better person if my wishes come true over those of my wife. There is plenty of good in life to go around without thinking my fortune must come at someone else’s misfortune. Unless we are in a heated game of Scrabble, I am not in competition with Barbara. And even in Scrabble, we cheer the other if they make a high score. I didn’t get married to compete with and overcome my best friend. Her success is my success.

Because I believe this, it bothers me to watch couples take delight in putting the other one down in public. If a guy does that to his wife, I’m thinking, “If she is so stupid and ignorant, why did you take public vows telling the world you wanted to spend the rest of your life with her? Who’s the real idiot in this scene?”

Ephesians reminds men to “love your wives, just as Christ loves the church” (Eph. 5:25). Not once has anyone ever heard Jesus point to one of His Bride and say, “Why are you so dumb? Hey Mike and Gabe, come look at what stupid thing this one did just now.” Jesus treats His Church better than that, and so should we. Even if they are not our spouse. But especially if they are.

So, this Thanksgiving when someone wants to make a wish over a piece of bone, kindly look at them and say, “Tell you what. How ‘bout we both pray good things for one another, because your success is my success.”

Sometimes, Jesus Wears A Skirt

Posted by Jim Thornber on July 18, 2020
Posted in: Christian Spirituality, Marriage, Religion, Scripture. Tagged: , , , , , . 2 Comments

“It is not good for a man to be alone. I will make him a helper who is his equal.” —Gen. 2:18 (literal translation)

 

The late night call to Barbara and me in Baton Rouge came from my mom in Mississippi telling me my dad in California was dying of cancer. Although I had only seen him once in almost twenty years, I knew I needed to fly to California to be with him. The next day I asked for a week off from work, booked a flight to LAX and stayed with my friends Gary and Cece in Garden Grove. The next day I drove Cece’s car to my hometown of Thousand Oaks, CA to spend the week with my dad in the hospital.

Although it was difficult to see my dad in pain, thinner than I’d ever known and, because he was too weak to shave, wearing a beard I’d never seen before, it was also difficult to be away from home. Yes, I missed Barbara, but there was also something else on my mind, something more basic, more substantial and not very “spiritual” that was calling me home: money.

It’s not like we were out of money. By our limited standards, we had a decent savings account after selling our home in Arkansas and moving to Baton Rouge. However, like most people I know, our money is limited and it was on my mind while I was in California.

Now that you know where my semi-spiritual mind wandered while I was visiting my dad, I also remember sitting at his bedside and thinking, I need to stay another week.  Because such a thought was the complete opposite of my current thinking, I knew it must have been the Holy Spirit speaking to me. Naturally, I fought the thought of staying another week with a bunch of reasons it wouldn’t work. (Wrestling with God’s Spirit is one of the ways I get my spiritual exercise. I don’t recommend it). After finally giving in to the Lord, my next problem was how to tell Barbara I was going to miss another week of work without pay. Fortunately, the Holy Spirit already spoke with her. Continue Reading

The God Who Runs

Posted by Jim Thornber on July 16, 2020
Posted in: Christian Spirituality, Religion, Scripture. Tagged: , , , , . Leave a comment

“And while he was still a long way off, his father saw him coming. Filled with love and compassion, he ran to his son, embraced him, and kissed him.” –Luke 15:20

I’d like to share with you a snippet of a recent conversation I had with God.

It started when I wanted to write the way Jesus portrayed God in Luke 15. After the wayward son spent his inheritance on wild living, he decides to return home. Verse 20 says the Father ran to the son, embraced him before he could deliver his well-rehearsed speech, and called for a party on his behalf. But I was missing something in the story and didn’t know how to start. I had blogger’s block. Finally (why is it always “finally’?), I settled myself down and prayed.

Me: Lord, as I think about Luke 15, how would You like me to represent You?

God: Tell people My forgiveness predates their repentance.

Me: Okay. What is the best way to do that?

God: Tell them why I ran.

I’ve been studying Luke 15 since the 1980’s when I first read Lloyd John Oglivie’s book on the parables called The Autobiography of God. The first parable Oglivie writes about is this one, which he calls, “The Prodigal God.” About the Father he says, “Rivet your attention on him. Don’t take your eyes off him,” because the spotlight is never off Him, even when He is off stage. He is the prodigal God.

That strikes most people as absurd, mostly because they think prodigal means “going away and returning.” In fact, the word “prodigal” means extravagant, lavish, unrestrained and copious. True, this describes the son in the way he lived in the far country, but it better describes the father. His love knew no limits, his joy no restraint, his forgiveness no boundaries. His forgiveness isn’t even bound by time.  The son was unrestrained with his money, but the father is unrestrained with His love.

Back to the parable. The son is now walking through town on his way to the Father’s house and Jesus says, “While he was still a long way off, his father saw him coming. Filled with love and compassion, he ran to his son, embraced him, and kissed him.”

Let’s pause at that word “run.” Most of us skip over it and move ahead to the embrace and the call for a new wardrobe. But if we don’t stop and consider the Father running, we miss a very important part of the story.

In his exegesis of Luke 15, Kenneth Bailey tells us as the son approaches the village, a crowd will gather. The village, well aware the son wanted the father to die so he could have his money now, will taunt the son, abusing him verbally and possibly physically. Therefore, the only way for the father to protect his son from a distance was to draw the attention of the crowd away from the son and onto himself. Therefore, the father ran.

Bailey writes, “An Oriental nobleman with flowing robes never runs anywhere. To do so is humiliating.” Aristotle wrote, “Great men never run in public.” But the father ran anyway. Why? Because he had “compassion” for his son. The only way to keep the crowd from harming his son was to distract them, so the father runs this gauntlet, drawing the attention of the away from the son in order to observe the father’s shameful behavior. Bailey writes, “The boy, having steeled his nerves for this gauntlet, now, to his utter amazement, see his father run it for him. Rather than experiencing the ruthless hostility he deserves and anticipates, the son witnesses and unexpected, visible demonstration of love in humiliation.”

This is the character of God. Not concerned for His own dignity, He does the unexpected so those who would never expect it see a side of God they least expected: love in humiliation. This is Christ the Messiah who, more concerned with our salvation than His dignity, voluntarily hangs naked from a Cross. Why? “Because of the joy awaiting him, he endured the cross, disregarding its shame” (Heb. 12:2).

While we were disabled due to sin, Jesus disrobed, shedding both His eternity and His clothes, to enable us to live again. Like the father running in the parable, he took the shame upon Himself and drew Satan’s attention away from us, knowing His death would set us free. By the time the Accuser figured out the resurrection, Christ’s victory over sin and death had already been won.

Our Savior exchanged his majesty for mortality, His sovereignty for shame, His glory for a grave. At the best possible moment in the history of humanity upon this earth, Christ came to us. Even as a baby, Satan’s attention was riveted upon Him. Christ ran.

We’ve been created by a Father who runs toward us. In His compassionate love, He forgives us before we ask, before we can convince Him we need His presence with our well-rehearsed speech. All the Father knew was His child who once was lost is now returning home, so He ran to embrace him.

Our Father, Holy is His name, likes to run. Have you experienced His embrace?

Rembrandt, The Return of the Prodigal Son, 1662–1669

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

No More No Less

Posted by Jim Thornber on June 25, 2020
Posted in: Christian Spirituality, Religion, Scripture. Tagged: , , , , . 1 Comment

I rarely post excerpts from books, but Henri Nouwen’s The Return of the Prodigal Son has been rearranging my thinking and my theology lately. Enjoy.

Rembrandt, The Return of the Prodigal Son, 1662–1669

The elder brother compares himself with the younger one and becomes jealous. But the father loves them both so much that it didn’t even occur to him to delay the party in order to prevent the elder son from feeling rejected. I am convinced that many of my emotional problems would melt as snow in the sun if I could let the truth of God’s non-comparing love permeate my heart.

How hard that is becomes clear when I reflect on the parable of the laborers in the vineyard. Each time I read that parable in which the landowner gives as much to the workers who worked only one hour as to those who did “a heavy day’s work in all the heat,” a feeling of irritation still wells up inside of me.

Why didn’t the landowner pay those who worked many long hours first and then surprise the latecomers with his generosity? Why, instead, does he pay the workers of the eleventh hour first, raising false expectations in the others and creating unnecessary bitterness and jealousy? Those questions, I now realize, come from a perspective that is all too willing to impose the economy of the temporal on the unique order of the divine.

It hadn’t previously occurred to me that the landowner might have wanted the workers of the early hours to rejoice in his generosity to the latecomers. It never crossed my mind that he might have acted on the supposition that those who had worked in the vineyard the whole day would be deeply grateful to have had the opportunity to do work for their boss, and even more grateful to see what a generous man he is. It requires an interior about-face to accept such a non-comparing way of thinking. But that is God’s way of thinking. God looks at his people as children of a family who are happy that those who have done only a little are as much loved as those who accomplish much.

God Answers Our Imperfect Prayers

Posted by Jim Thornber on June 24, 2020
Posted in: Christian Spirituality, Religion, Scripture. Tagged: , , , , , . Leave a comment

“Meanwhile, Peter continued knocking. When they finally opened the door and saw him, they were amazed.” – Acts 12:16

Are you an unbelieving believer? I know I am! How many times have I prayed about something, wondered if God heard my prayer, wondered even more if He would answer my prayer, and when He does answer my prayer, doubted it was God who answered my prayer? Too numerous to count. But at least I’m not alone, and I have a group of disciples in the book of Acts who understand just how I feel.

Here’s the scene. A group of Christians gather together for an all-night prayer vigil to seek God for the life of Peter, their beloved friend and leader, whom Herod has arrested and plans to execute. They are crying out to God for Peter’s life and the prayer vigil take them into the early morning.

Then a knock comes at the front door. A servant girl name Rhoda goes to see who it is. Rhoda must have been very familiar with Peter to recognize him just by his voice, because she left Peter at the locked gate, ran back to the prayer group and told them Peter was here.

And, being the faith-filled, Spirit-led, Holy Ghost baptized believers they are, they immediately dismissed Rhoda’s news by telling her she was crazy, it was just probably just his angel. Say what? Here these people are involved in some serious prayer but when the answer comes knocking at the door, they don’t believe it. THAT is what I mean by this being an imperfect prayer—they didn’t even have enough faith to think that God would answer their prayers.

This teaches us we don’t have to produce perfect faith nor perfect prayers to experience God’s answers. It wasn’t the extraordinary faith they all had that moved God to release Peter. In fact, they didn’t show much faith at all. Here they are, all gathered together to pray for their beloved friend, and when he shows up in answer to their prayers, they don’t believe it. So, how much faith does it take to pray for something and then, when you get it, turn it away because you doubt? Not much faith. Not much at all. But what we learn from this passage is it isn’t the amount of faith you have, but Who your faith is in that matters.

We must always remember that our faith isn’t in our faith, it is in God. Jesus knew we’d only need faith the size of a mustard seed to move mountains (Matt 13:31-32). The fact that they were praying was enough faith to produce results. I admonish you to NEVER tell someone they didn’t receive an answer to their prayers because they didn’t have enough faith. I want to seriously hurt the self-righteous clods who tell people, “The reason you didn’t get healed was because you didn’t have enough faith.” If you want to see me truly angry, use that sentence in my presence! How much faith does it take to become saved? How much faith does it take to have your first-ever conversation with God? I think that is the same amount of faith it takes to move mountains. Just talking with God takes a certain amount of faith in itself.

I admit it comforts me to know I’m not the first person to pray for something and then doubt when it arrives. These early believers prayed rightly, and even though they didn’t believe it when God answered their prayers, God answered them anyway. They prayed fervently and effectively, but didn’t fully believe. Still, they had enough faith in them to pray in the first place, and that’s all we need, too.

 

 

We Are Not In Competition

Posted by Jim Thornber on June 16, 2020
Posted in: Christian Spirituality, Leadership, Religion, Scripture. Tagged: , , , , , . 1 Comment

“Then Barnabas went to Tarsus to look for Saul.” –  Acts 11:25

 

One of my greatest joys as a pastor is the friendships I have with other pastors in my town. I’ve been having Friday morning coffee for years with other pastors, and we’ve developed great relationships. I’ve taught in their church and they’ve come to mine when I was out of town. In fact, I’ve taught in four different churches and have had seven pastors or teachers from other churches fill in for me. One pastor uses me and my wife Barbara for all his marriage counseling, and another pastor is  my computer guru.

Because of our friendships, we see one another not as competitors for souls, but companions in the work of the Kingdom. We support and encourage one another, share needs, prayer requests and, when needed, finances. We are working together to build the Kingdom of God, because we recognize each fellowship has different gifts with different abilities to minister to different people.

We see the same attitude with Barnabas in the book of Acts. This oft-overlooked character has been both an inspiration and a challenge to me. We first meet him as an example of a disciple who was “united in heart and mind” with the other believers (Acts 4:32). We read his real name was Joseph (which means, “May God add”), but the apostles nicknamed him Barnabas (“Son of encouragement”). We also know he was from the island of Cyprus and the priestly tribe of Levi. In his generosity, he sold a field he owned and gave the money to the apostles to use for the poor.

In Acts 11, we read about the first believers taking the Gospel outside Israel to Gentiles. Up to this point, most of the believers only preached to Jews, like those in Jerusalem, or to those in Israel, like Cornelius in Caesarea. Now believers from Cyrene (North Africa) and Cyprus (an island in the Mediterranean) are preaching to the pagans in Antioch. Because Barnabas would be more familiar with the disciples and the pagan nature of Antioch, the church of Jerusalem sends him to investigate. What he sees makes him rejoice because of all the people who brought to the Lord.

This is good, but what challenges me is Barnabas doesn’t stay in Antioch. Instead, he travels 100 miles west to get Saul, whose God-given commission was to the Gentiles. It appears Barnabas was aware that this ministry in Antioch was the specialty of another minister, so he seeks Saul. The two of them stay in Antioch one year, and it was here the believers are first called “Christians,” which means “Christ followers” or “those of the household of Christ.”

The inspiration and the challenge is the way Barnabas understood his gifts, understood the gifts of Saul, and proceeded to collaborate with his brother in Christ to bring the Gospel to new people. Barnabas didn’t “protect his interest” in Antioch. It wasn’t “his church and his people.” He knew it was God’s church and God’s people and he sought out the best person he could find to continue God’s mission.

My prayer is we all (pastors, people and churches) learn to step aside and allow God to use God’s people without there being any spirit of “ownership” over a group or a ministry. Perhaps then the world will realize we are all “those of the household of Christ.”

 

The Crumbs of Faith and Hope

Posted by Jim Thornber on March 26, 2020
Posted in: Christian Spirituality, Religion, Scripture. Tagged: , , , , . 2 Comments

“Jesus said to the woman, ‘I was sent only to help God’s lost sheep—the people of Israel.’ But she came and worshiped him, pleading again, ‘Lord, help me!’”­ Matthew 15:24-25

 

As I write this, the world is in turmoil because of coronavirus, or COVID-19. In response to this pandemic, prayers all over the world are ascending to God’s throne, and many pastors, like myself, are searching for ways to comfort and guide our people. Is God judging the world? Is He trying to remind us there is only one race on earth, the human race, and we need to work together as companions instead of apart as competitors?

I’ll let better minds than my own try to figure out what God is doing on a global scale, for I’ve got my hands full praying for and touching (not literally!) the lives I come in contact with (not literally!) every day. What I do know is God is not the silent type, and even when He is, He is leading us into a life of faith and hope.

All of this has me thinking about the very persistent mother in Matthew 15:21-28. The story finds Jesus leaving Galilee and going north into Tyre and Sidon, which was Gentile territory. A Canaanite (enemies of the Jews) woman who lived there came to Him and pleaded for Jesus to heal her daughter, who was being tormented by a demon. As a response to this request, Jesus remained silent.

Today, silence is a most hated concept. With smartphones, the internet, radio and television blaring everywhere we go, we’ve learned to distrust the sound of silence. Silence is wrong. Silence means something is broke. Silence from our political leaders means they are not working on our behalf. Silence from our religious leaders means they don’t have the comforting answers we seek. Silence makes us nervous. Silence makes us wonder if we’re still alive if all we hear is the sound of our own breathing.

Add to that silence of Jesus the complete lack of compassion from the Disciples. Sure, they want Jesus to heal her, but only because “she is bothering us with all her begging” (15:23). In other words, if healing her daughter will get her to shut up, then DO IT! So, couple the silence of Jesus with the fact the people hanging out with Jesus urge Him to send her away, in most instances you’d have an emotional breakdown in the making. This woman is facing rejection on all sides and she knows it, but she still doesn’t go away. She just stands there and waits for the Son of David to answer her request, and when Jesus does speak, it is not as the meek and mild Jesus we sing about in church. Continue Reading

Habakkuk’s Complaint

Posted by Jim Thornber on March 14, 2020
Posted in: Christian Spirituality, Religion, Scripture, Worship. Tagged: , , , , , . Leave a comment

I’ve been reading (and rereading) the book of Habakkuk lately. It is a small book nestled between Nahum and Zephaniah and is unique among the prophetical writings in that it contains no message to Israel or Judah. Instead, it’s a dialogue between a desperate and disappointed prophet and his very confusing God. It’s an intimate look into an intense conversation, and I feel like a bystander looking over someone’s shoulder and reading their email. I know I shouldn’t, but I do anyway. I feel like a scriptural voyeur who hasn’t been caught!

However, Habakkuk is not unique in the way the prophet accuses God of being not only unjust, but unfathomable. Jonah and Jeremiah also leveled some harsh accusations towards God who, being God, never takes it personally but redirects His servants to see the bigger picture. That comforts me, because I’ve leveled my share of disappoints with God, who always gently brings me around to see things His way.

Upon my first reading, I immediately understood Habakkuk’s emotions. He sees his people are in trouble and prays for God’s help. I’ve done that. So far, so good. In response, God tells Habakkuk He will fix things by bringing the completely depraved, godless and idol-worshiping Babylonians in to punish God’s own people. In other words, the unrighteous will teach the righteous. However, now that Habakkuk gets an answer to his prayer, he calls a time out and registers a second complaint to God, telling Him he doesn’t like God’s answer! Me once again. Has Habakkuk been reading MY emails?!

“Wait,” he says. “I wanted You to fix things, but not THAT way!” That sounds like me, too. I want an answer, but I want a comfortable, encouraging answer. I want an answer that will show God is on my side because I’m God’s chosen and beloved servant. I practice talking to God with the confident assurance I’m going to get preferential treatment because I’m a child of the King and all the answers to my prayers will be those that will bless my soul and encourage my church to worship the beauty and majesty of God. In other words, like Habakkuk, I’ve told God I wasn’t sure He knew what He was doing. And I’m also sure I’m not alone.

Still, after his complaints, Habakkuk does something wonderful: He waits. “I will climb up to my watchtower and stand at my guardpost,” he writes. “There I will wait to see what the LORD says and how he will answer my complaint” (2:1). He knows God will answer and he goes back to work to see how God will reveal Himself.

Then, after hearing the God’s answer to his second complaint, Habakkuk does something that astounds me. He takes the worst possible news he could ever hear from God—“I trembled inside when I heard this; my lips quivered with fear. My legs gave way beneath me, and I shook in terror” (3:16)—and decides, “yet I will rejoice in the LORD! I will be joyful in the God of my salvation!” (3:17-18). That’s a level of faith I’m only beginning to understand. God is not only Habakkuk’s Savior, He is also his King and His Lord. And if the Lord has decided this is the best course of action, then no matter how difficult it will be for him personally, Habakkuk will never abandon gratitude and a joyful expectation that one day, and maybe not even in his lifetime, God will work out everything according to His glory and our good. Even when there are no figs, no grapes, no olives, dead flocks and empty cattle barns (3:17), “yet I will rejoice in the LORD!” And Habakkuk can say that because, “The Sovereign LORD is my strength!” (3:19).

In his introduction to Habakkuk, Eugene Peterson writes, “Habakkuk started out exactly where we start out with our puzzled complaints and God-accusations, but he didn’t stay there. He ended up in a world, along with us, where every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.” When I understand this then, and only then, will I live “as surefooted as a deer, able to tread upon the heights.” (3:19). And what a view from the heights it will be!