By Lydia Jentzen Will
“But hope that is seen is no hope at all.
Who hopes for what they already have?
But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.”(Roman 18:24-15)
Through every drought, every storm, every fire – God has an answer. He provides in ways seen and unseen and so beautifully out of the box that it causes you to pause and think, yeah, that’s just like Him. Isn’t it?
Ravens are meat eaters. Scavengers. They’d pick the bones of a dead man if they found one in the desert, digging bills into rotting flesh. God takes these literal death-eaters and transforms them into life-bringers. Soul-feeders. Ravens obey His commands and Elijah is fed by birds who feed on death.
Ravens obey His commands and Elijah is fed by birds who feed on death.
In a little ravine in a desert, being fed in a crazy way by an impossibly creative God, Elijah waited it out. Who hopes for what they already have? The very nature of hope is the opening up to possibilities that seem impossible.
The very nature of death-eating ravens transformed into life-bringers? Impossible.
A culture hell bent on bringing hell on earth being restored to God’s purposes? Not likely.
A marriage so full of barbs so jagged they threaten to puncture your very lungs, redeemable? Hardly.
Anxiety so fierce it forces you to your knees, gasping for breath – tameable? Never.
This world tells us to turn our backs, to toss it out, to stop believing in miracles. You can see the hopelessness spelled right out in every headline, in the embracing of idol worship in Detroit and in the defeated shrug of an affair website’s byline: “Life’s Short. Have An Affair.” Because there’s nothing else. Nothing better. May as well embrace the depravity.
And yet.
Gearing up all around us and in us and in every good thing is a God who’s seen it all before.
Life’s short – But God is eternal.
Life’s hard – But God has won.
Life’s painful – But God heals all.
Don’t ever give up. Look up. God is not mocked. He gently meets our simplest needs, but that doesn’t make Him a simple God. He’s always and ever the victor in every war. We know how this all ends, even if today we can’t see how it could possibly be so. That’s what hope is for. It’s unseen knowledge. Soul-surety. He can take the filthiest and worst, murders and rapes and every ravaging sin that this world can come up with – and redeem it for good. He’s in the business of redemption.
He can take the filthiest and worst, murders and rapes and every ravaging sin that this world can come up with – and redeem it for good.
Not matter how backwards, upside down today seems – it’s going to be good. Our job isn’t to overcome the world. That’s over our pay-grade. Our job is to wait, patiently. Wait, expectantly. Wait, joyfully.
Wait it out giving thanks for His provision despite the clamor outside our doors. Wait it out in the little ravines He sets us in, promising to come back for us. Wait it out believing in miracles because every day is rife with them, His love letter reminders to us.
Ravens change course midair and fly upside down.
Impossibly possible.
