My vision is small. It grasps only what my imagination can conceive or what my heart can hold. To imagine the unimaginable is, well, unimaginable.
The Lord longs to be gracious to us in ways we can’t comprehend. He wants to create beauty out of ashes, joy out of mourning. He transcends a spirit of heaviness and gives us joy. He raises the dead and delivers the bound. But when we are in bondage, the hope of freedom is unimaginable.
Everyday we face sorrow and suffering. The large dump truck backs up to my house regularly. It dumps foul and faithless futility on my doorstep. How can He turn the pile into something that brings Him glory?
Because He is the God of the impossible.
When Joseph sat at the bottom of the well having been thrown in there by his elder brothers, he couldn’t have imagined a favorable outcome. (At least I couldn’t have.) Then, when he was carried by caravan and forced to walk across a desert to Egypt, I imagine his prayers were for deliverance. But it didn’t come—at least not then.
But God had a plan, and it was for good. His bondage and suffering became deliverance for his whole family.
So while I wait for his gracious promises, I’ll grab a shovel. I’ll dig into the pile, with hope and a heart that waits on His deliverance and His timing. And with each shovel full, I’ll say to my soul with thankfulness and hope, The Lord longs to be gracious to you. Those who wait for the Lord, they will inherit the land. The Lord is righteous in all His ways and kind in all His deeds. (Isaiah 30:18, Psalm 37:9, Psalm 145:17)
I wait for your salvation. Come.
Yet the Lord longs to be gracious to you; therefore he will rise up to show you compassion. For the Lord is a God of justice. Blessed are all who wait for him! (Isaiah 30:18 NASB)