“The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.” Psalm 19:1, NIV
One afternoon, I was sitting on the ocean shore.
When I’m wondering where God is, His creation always seems to have a message about Him, if I pay close enough attention. A verse I love to remember is Psalm 19:1: “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.” If I can’t see the work of His hands the way I thought I would in my circumstances, I want to see His work somewhere.
You see, earlier that morning I had received an email informing me a harsh article had just been released about me. I was already in a season that had caused me so much anxiety and pain. The accusations were troubling, and I had plenty of evidence to refute them.
The person writing the article about me never contacted me to check the facts. Yet they published their words for all the world to read. Other media outlets followed suit. And there was nothing I could do about it.
I was having a hard time getting my pulse to slow down and my hands to stop shaking. I just kept staring out at this big, vast ocean, asking God, Why? Why does it seem like, once again, a person who is causing me so much pain is getting away with it?
I don’t know how long I sat there in stunned silence, trying to paint pictures in my mind of a future scenario where things finally turned out OK. I imagined myself writing in my journal one day: Look how God defended me. His justice finally came about. Look at how He brought it all together better than ever. This all makes sense now. I can finally exhale.
But I still don’t have that page in my journal.
I have not seen the justice of God in several situations. Not yet. And maybe I won’t on this side of eternity. I have really good parts of my life now. But I still have to fight really hard not to entertain the bitterness that invites me to pitch a tent right in the unfairness and camp out in it.
Otherwise, constantly thinking about what God doesn’t seem to be doing — and about my desire for my version of justice to come about — can become a focus, which, over time, can become an obsession and, if left unattended, can become a stronghold for the enemy of my soul.
However the unfairness of a situation you may be facing is playing out right now, I want you to know that you’re not alone. I personally understand how hard it is to fully step into the future when the past won’t stay in the past. And it’s doubly hard when my desire for things to be fair makes the fight against bitterness and resentment exhausting on a soul level. And it’s triply (is that a word?) hard when it makes no sense why God isn’t saying “no more” and stopping this.
I would imagine that whether your trust and your heart have been broken by a friend, spouse, sibling, parent, leader or another significant person, you know the fight I’m talking about. If their hurtful actions are still happening, I bet you’re exhausted and frustrated too. Maybe parts of your story, like mine, have turned around, but there is still pain being caused.
I’m so sorry for what you’ve gone through, friend.
If you get nothing else out of this devotion today, I want you to get this: we may never see the justice we long for on this side of eternity. Some will. But many will not. I can’t explain this, but I’m working hard to accept this. Some days I feel like I can make peace with this. Other days I try, but it’s so hard. Really, really hard. But I’m clinging to this with all my heart and I hope you will too: The absence of justice isn’t evidence of the absence of God.
He is with you, now and every day forward. This is something we can be sure of no matter what.