For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. (Rom. 8:22–24 NIV)
Loving Father, I’m feeling many different things as this day begins. Images of horror and heartache in third and fourth world countries simply will not go away—and they shouldn’t go away. People being loaded into trucks for mass grave burials . . . infants desperate for formula . . . tens of thousands of newly orphaned children. . . . As much as I would like to tune out, numb out, and check out, the gospel compels me to keep my heart present in the overwhelming distress and dimensions of this crisis.
One day you will wipe away every tear from the eyes of your people, and there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things will have passed away for your world in waiting (Rev. 21:4). How long, O Lord? How long until that increasingly longed-for day? Oh, that it could be today . . .
But because of this hope, we will not tune out, numb out, or check out. We will seek to show up. Lead us, King Jesus. Lead us into your work of redemption and restoration. What will it mean to love mercy, do justice, and walk humbly with you in the broken places of your world?
We praise you that you do not despise our confusion, our despair, or even our railings against heaven and the mysteries of hard providence, but you give us all the gospel sanity we will need to follow you into the heart-wrenching brokenness and chaos. I pray in Jesus’ tender and trustworthy name. Amen.