An Advent Journey: When God Became Small — Day Seventeen

Habakkuk 3:13-19, NRSV

 You came forth to save your people,
    to save your anointed.
You crushed the head of the wicked house,
    laying it bare from foundation to roof. Selah

You pierced with their own arrows the head of his warriors,
    who came like a whirlwind to scatter us,
    gloating as if ready to devour the poor who were in hiding.

You trampled the sea with your horses,
    churning the mighty waters.

I hear, and I tremble within;
    my lips quiver at the sound.
Rottenness enters into my bones,
    and my steps tremble beneath me.
I wait quietly for the day of calamity
    to come upon the people who attack us.

Though the fig tree does not blossom,
    and no fruit is on the vines;
though the produce of the olive fails,
    and the fields yield no food;
though the flock is cut off from the fold,
    and there is no herd in the stalls,

yet I will rejoice in the Lord;
    I will exult in the God of my salvation.

God, the Lord, is my strength;
    he makes my feet like the feet of a deer,
    and makes me tread upon the heights.

When this passage came up in the daily lectionary, I nearly wept with gratitude. It is one of my favorite favorites. Despite everything that is wrong, hard, painful, grievous — despite everything —

yet I will rejoice in the Lord.

Oh, that I might stand tall and sing with the prophet. That I might raise my hands to heaven and shout these words! YET. Just three letters, but so powerful, poignant, game-changing. 

Yet. . .

Of Lord of the ‘Yet,’ help me to be a person who clings to that ‘yet,’ who believes — soul-deep — that you are good, faithful, present. . . no.matter.what. Thank you for these words, for this declaration of trust and commitment, even in the bleakest of circumstances. Thank you for Habukkuk this Advent.