Habakkuk 3:17–19 (ESV) — 17 Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, 18 yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. 19 God, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer’s; he makes me tread on my high places. To the choirmaster: with stringed instruments.

We love our transformation stories. Whether a house or a vehicle or a person, we want to be blown away by the finished product. Show us those before and after photos—we are bound to look!

The book of Habakkuk is a song that tells the story of a man who underwent a radical transformation. Here, at the end of his conversation with God, we find a man resolved to trust God no matter what. God had told him that the only way through the years to come was to live by faith (Habakkuk 2:4). And this trust in God is still the standard equipment required to navigate our days as well.

Fortunately, Habakkuk pulled out his guitar (string instrument, 19) and wrote us his song, ending with this beautiful bridge. It is meant to stand out from the rest of the song—these lyrics demonstrate radical trust in God. Habakkuk has presented the problem (as he sees it) to God. God has made his promises. Habakkuk has praised God. But now comes the trust. Let's consider the elements of this trust.

Endures Devastation (17)

The Fallout Of War

First, consider how Habakkuk's trust endured devastation. He said, "Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord" (17-18).

And these were not hypotheticals in Habakkuk's mind—he believed the ravages of war were coming. With Israel's men engaged in battle and the families torn asunder by forced relocation, the land would lie barren and the livestock would be untended. It wasn't lack of water but an abundance of war that would bring them to such conditions. The usual social order that allowed them the time and protections to focus on flocks and crops ended when Nebuchadnezzar began his military campaign against them. The luxury of wine would be one of the first to go, but even Israel's hallmark crops of figs and olives would cease. And the cattle and sheep and goats would no longer produce the meat and dairy to sustain the nation. Israel was told the Promised Land was a land flowing with milk and honey, but the fallout of war would stop up the abundant flow of God's good earth.

Acceptance

Habakkuk is not willing to have his head buried in the sands of oblivion. He is like an accountant, counting every last tragedy to strike the land. He has considered the far-reaching implications of God's judgment. He has ceased holding out hope for fruit and flocks. Even Habakkuk's basic necessities of life would evaporate—and he knew it.

But Habakkuk is done complaining about it—this is the portion of his song that is resolved and confident in God. He is like Paul the Apostle when he said, "I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake, I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ" (Philippians 3:8).

This counting is acceptance. Habakkuk has passed through denial, anger, bargaining, and depression—now, he accepts God's plans of judgment. He is not in denial. He heard the knock of war at the door. Rather than quietly ignore it, he opened the door with a detailed explanation of war's implications.

Picture a child standing at the center of a giant trampoline. Without any momentum, at a total standstill, they cannot get much air. To go high, they have to go low. Before the trampoline can snap them into the air, they must go low. Before Habakkuk could go up with God, he had to go down into reality.

And Habakkuk sure didn't sound for a moment like a victim. As a prophet (and maybe a priest), the indication is that he loved, served, and walked with God. He probably wasn't guilty of the national crimes God's people had committed. But he was going to go down with them. Yet, even if he had feelings of victimization, he clearly moved past them.

Don't get caught in the cycle of self-pity. We would avoid a lot of our depression or anger or frustration if we thought about ourselves less. Habakkuk saw the devastation but trusted God would see him through.

When Job suffered, his wife told him to curse God and die. He refused. He said, "Should we accept only good from God and not adversity?" (Job 2:10, HCSB) Esteemed 17th century pastor Francois Fenelon said there are two kinds of people: "some look at life and complain of what is not there; others look at life and rejoice in what is there" (Run With The Horses, Eugene Peterson). Habakkuk was forced into a situation where he had to respond well to what wasn't there by rejoicing at who was there—God.

You might be singing Habakkuk's song today. The lyrics are likely a little different—you aren't as concerned with figs and olives or cows and goats—but the tone is the same. When the addiction is resurfacing...When the marriage is floundering...when the career is flattening...when the church is capitulating...when schools are pronouning...when the teenager is spiraling...when the health is fading...when the inflation is skyrocketing...

But there is a level of trust in God that can endure every form of devastation. He has been tested through wars and famine, disease and downturn. He is able. He is God. He is good in the midst of all of it.

Finds Joy In God (18)

Take Joy

Second, consider how Habakkuk's trust found joy in God. He said, "I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation" (18). His trust in God during devastation was only possible because he found his joy in God. He was not content to only endure the hour of distress—he wanted to pursue God amid all that chaos. Though devastation came, yet Habakkuk would rejoice in God (16, 17). He was confident that all the hardship could not separate him from his Lord, so he would go take joy in the God of his salvation (17).

God had saved them from Egypt and would save them from Babylon, so he called the Lord "the God of my salvation" (18). We can say the same of God—he has saved us at the cross and will save us when he returns. He is the God of our salvation, and nothing can separate us from him.

As New Testament believers, we know God this way. After spending the entire book of Romans mining the depths of the gospel, Paul emerged from the mineshaft, took off his headlamp, and proclaimed:

“For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:38–39, ESV)

And because Habakkuk and God were not divided from each other, Habakkuk determined to find his joy in God.

Recently, I was at Asilomar Beach in Pacific Grove during sunset, but I was there for something else. Extreme winds created tumultuous but beautiful seas. Watching the waves collide with the rocky shoreline was like watching fireworks explode in the sky. But something else caught my eye. Beyond the rocks was a buoy. Chained to the ocean floor, it was bobbing and reeling like a rodeo star, hanging on for dear life.

For many, the trials and pains of life are like that buoy—just hang on for dear life. The storm has to end sometime. But Habakkuk wasn't tossed to and fro by the storm at this point. He was transcending the storm, rising above (or beneath) it, going straight to God.

To the Philippians, Paul said, "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice" (Philippians 4:4). Only a believer in Christ could make a statement like that one—no matter what we face, the cross happened. We always have a reason to rejoice in the Lord. In the "always" of life, we can rejoice in God.

Rejoice In Him

So this level of trust will find its joy in God. As Habakkuk demonstrates, this generates an inner peace that doesn't depend on outward prosperity. And this joy is available to anyone because it's based on a person—God himself. Since he always is, and the cross is always true, we can always find our joy in him.

As Augustine prayed: This is happy life: to rejoice in your presence, and through you, and because of you. This life is the actual happy life; there is no other kind. Those who think the happy life is different pursue another joy, and not the true one itself. — Confessions (Modern Library) by Augustine and Sarah Ruden

In her masterpiece book, Questioning Christianity, Rebecca McLaughlin opened with a chapter that asked, "Aren't We Better Off Without Religion?" Many have made this claim. In her response to this charge, she quoted Harvard School of Public Health professor Tyler VanderWeele, who who presented "research (that) suggests that those who regularly attend services are more optimistic, have lower rates of depression, are less likely to commit suicide, have a greater purpose in life, are less likely to divorce, and are more self-controlled" (Questioning Christianity by Rebecca McLaughlin).

She went on to point out that one of the reasons for this outcome is that believers really can be happy in any circumstance. Like Habakkuk, we can take joy, finding it in God. Some of you—because of atrocities done in the name of religion—might be tempted to say religion is bad for you. But that's like saying drugs are bad for you. Some are, but some are good for you. Some destroy and enslave, but some heal and empower. And for Habakkuk—and many others like him—the knowledge of God has impacted them in positive ways.

As for believers, we must fight to believe the right voices, the ones that tell us true satisfaction is found in God. We pray with pastor-author Euguene Peterson:

Deliver me from the liars, God! They smile so sweetly but lie through their teeth. Rescue me from the lies of advertisers who claim to know what I need and what I desire, from the lies of entertainers who promise a cheap way to joy, from the lies of politicians who pretend to instruct me in power and morality, from the lies of psychologists who offer to shape my behavior and my morals so that I will live long, happily and successfully, from the lies of religionists who "heal the wounds of this people lightly," from the lies of moralists who pretend to promote me to the office of captain of my fate, from the lies of pastors who "get rid of God's command so you won't be inconvenienced in following the religious fashions!" (Mk 7:8). Rescue me from the person who tells me of life and omits Christ, who is wise in the ways of the world and ignores the movement of the Spirit. — A Long Obedience in the Same Direction: Discipleship in an Instant Society by Eugene H. Peterson

Gains Strength To Overcome (19)

God Is My Strength

Third, and last, consider how Habakkuk's trust gained him the strength to overcome. He said, "God, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer’s; he makes me tread on my high places" (19).

This is the same man who said his legs and whole body trembled, his lips quivered, and rottenness entered his bones (16). He was not strong alone, but after encountering and turning to God, he confessed that God was his strength.

And not only is this strength in contrast to how Habakkuk used to feel, but also to the Babylonian armies. God said, "Their own might is their god"(1:11). For Babylon, their strength was god. For Habakkuk, God was his strength.

And the strength God gave Habakkuk remade him into someone able to ascend the heights of victory. Like a mountain deer's muscular frame and sturdy feet, God-shaped Habakkuk into a man who could handle the rugged terrain, rise above the chaos and get to the safety of the high places (19).

In the original Matrix movie, Keanu Reeves plays Neo, a messianic figure who will deliver humans from their machine captors. But to enter into the machine's world, he has to be reprogrammed with abilities he'd not previously known. In one scene, he is hooked up to computers that enable him to download (and learn) thousands of fighting styles in only a moment. When he awakes from the download, in surprise, he says the iconic line, "I know Kung Fu."

Habakkuk is saying that he's turned to God, and now he knows Kung Fu. He wasn't strong, but now he is. God has given him the sturdy feet and robust cardiovascular system needed to ascend the highest hills. He is weak no more.

Many cyclists and runners use an activity tracking app called Strava. It has all the typical features—pace, distance, elevation, heart rate—but its addictive feature is its "segments," well-traveled stretches of trail or road where so many ride or run that they can provide a leaderboard, even breaking it up by fastest of the day, month, year, or all-time. When I used to do more trail running, I set my sights on Mt. Tallac in Lake Tahoe. Each summer, I would peruse those lists to see where I might set my targets. I might not be the fastest up the mountain, but maybe I could beat the other guys in their forties.

But to get up that mountain, training was required. Over long miles and climbs, my lungs were built up for that annual run-up Mt. Tallac. Without the training, I could never set a decent time.

Here, Habakkuk has been trained by God. The dialogue between man and God, prophet and Lord, had together hadn't altered God, but it had dramatically changed Habakkuk. Because he brought his problem to God, because God gave him a promise, and because Habakkuk responded in praise, this mountain climbing trust in God was developed. God made him someone and something he wasn't when the conversation started. He was made fit to go high.

Conclusion

Habakkuk began his book at the lowest of lows. He struggled to understand why God's people were so weak and lawless—they had clearly rejected God as their King! But then the prophet went even lower when God announced his solution to Israel's spiritual apathy. The Babylonians were coming—a terrible nation would invade a spiritually rebellious one. God would use a violent people to chasten the people he loved. This news sank Habakkuk further into the slough of despond.

But, by the end of the book, Habakkuk is up on the mountain heights. If there is no fruit or flocks, the prophet will be unmoved because he has God as his joy and strength. God had told him that the only way the righteous can endure such times is by faith, and now Habakkuk is strong in the substance (2:4).

As students of his prophecy, we have a decision. Will we walk by sight or by faith? To walk by all we hear or read or witness—by sight—is like trying to walk through quicksand. The more you move, the more entrenched you become. Most of us have had this experience—every day brings a fresh onslaught of news and reports that can draw us deeper down into frustration or anger or despondency.

But to walk by faith—to trust that God is at work and is enough for us—is like walking on the mountaintops. There, the air is fresh, the water is pure, and the vistas are magnificent.

But we have a choice—quicksand or mountaintops? Sight or faith? People or God? Where will you set your eyes?

When you are open and honest with loved ones, what bubbles forth? Is it fear or anger or depression? Is it a rehashing of the planet's broken people doing broken things? Is it a shocked and befuddled retelling of the old story of the fall and depravity of man?

Or is it faith and hope and joy? Is it a retelling of God's glorious kingdom story, a redeeming God doing redemption things? Is it a calm and soothed retelling of the old story of God's rescue at the cross, filled with confidence that the story is not yet concluded?

Every day, let's join the prophet, departing with him from the quicksand of hopelessness and climbing to the mountains of trust. Christ is there, patiently redeeming and waiting and working, fulfilling the "plan of God for the fullness of time to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth" (Ephesians 2:10). Each day—each moment that the quicksandish discouragement seeps in—let's present the problem to God, hear his ultimate promise of redemption, praise him for who he is, and begin to, like Habakkuk, trust again. Because what God announced to this ancient prophet is still true today: "the righteous will live by their faith" (Habakkuk 2:4).