I’ve been studying the book of Habakkuk. It’s a very short book from the Hebrew scriptures. It’s not uncommon that we see something in the world, know that it’s wrong, and want answers as to why it’s happening. That’s Habakkuk; he sees injustice happening in Judah and wants to know why God hasn’t done anything about it. Through a back and forth with Habakkuk and God, we discover that God is actually up to something, in fact something so big that God doesn’t think Habakkuk will even believe it.
Look at the nations and watch— and be utterly amazed. For I am going to do something in your days that you would not believe, even if you were told. Habakkuk 1:5 (NIV)
I worked for a Christian organization in Atlanta for five years. In fact, I helped start it. Habakkuk 1:5 had been important to me for a number of years before this endeavor, and when the organization adopted this verse as its theme verse, I thought I had found the job I would be retiring from.
But then things got bad. We grew exceptionally fast. Leadership couldn’t keep up with the needs of the growing organization. Sometimes it felt like we were growing for the sake of growth, not to fulfill our mission. Lies, triangulation of relationships, and manipulation became the pattern to deal with the growing questions coming from staff. It was always someone else’s fault; no responsibility was taken.
When another team member and I began to speak out, to seek help, trying to patch our sinking ship, things only got worse. Our parent organization stepped in. I was told I was gossiping, I was the problem. More lies. I spent a lot of time asking God why he was letting these things happen. He never told me. Could it be I was asking the wrong question?
What are you doing, God? I wish that had been the question I had been asking. Even if He had said, “You won’t believe me if I tell you.” At least then I would have known He was up to something. I believed He was, but I was more focused on why those with spiritual authority and all the power were allowed to continue in their behavior.
I can only wonder what could have been different if I had stopped waiting for why, if I had stopped waiting for the next and focused on what God was doing in the now. It’s too easy to miss the now while we wait for the next. The next season, the next opportunity, the next answer, the next sign that things are finally changing. We fixate on an unknown future, often born out of our present discomfort, and in doing so, we become blind to the unexpected work God might be doing right in front of us.
The present was deeply unexpected for me. It wasn’t the future I had envisioned when we started the organization with Habakkuk 1:5 as our banner. The injustice Habakkuk saw felt mirrored in my own situation, albeit on a different scale. And like him, I wrestled. I wanted the why. I wanted the next – the resolution, the vindication, the return to the good days that maybe never truly existed.
But Habakkuk’s journey didn’t end with his questions in chapter 1. After God reveals His plan (using the Babylonians, which was not the answer Habakkuk expected or wanted), Habakkuk takes a different posture. He waits. He watches. And ultimately, he lands in a place of profound trust, even amidst the unresolved and the frighteningly unknown next:
Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior. Habakkuk 3:17-18 (NIV)
Habakkuk chose to find his footing not in understanding the why or knowing the next, but in the character of God Himself – a God who is present and sovereign even when His actions are baffling. He chose joy and trust in the God of now, regardless of what the future held or how confusing the present was.
Looking back, I see how much energy I spent demanding answers and waiting for a different future, a future where the wrongs were righted according to my timeline and understanding. What if, instead, I had focused on seeking God in that messy, unexpected now? What if I had asked, “God, show me where you are in this? What are you teaching me here? How can I trust you today?” Perhaps I wouldn’t have felt so adrift. Perhaps I would have seen glimpses of that unbelievable work God promised Habakkuk, happening in the small corners of my own difficult circumstances.
The unexpected now often feels like a detour or a disaster. But maybe it’s the very place God intends to do something we wouldn’t believe, even if we were told. Maybe the invitation isn’t to figure out the unknown next, but to trust God in the unexpected now, to watch and wait with eyes open to His surprising presence and purpose, right here, right today.
Learning to Live 