Joel 1:16, 2:12-13

Has not the food been cut off before your very eyes—joy and gladness from the house of our God? (Joel 1:16)

“Even now,” declares the LORD, “return to me with all your heart, with fasting and weeping and mourning.” Rend your heart and not your garments. Return to the LORD your God, for he is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love, and he relents from sending calamity. (Joel 2:12-13)

Flying along on my bike, skirting potholes and winning skirmishes with

Boldly advancing, bike wheels blindly whirring, buzzing past pothole traps and gravel grabs. Then came the hill, but undaunted clambered up it, breathlessly, pump, push—top of the world! Joy expected of downward rush and flight, I start…. Then gravel grabs and potholes pull control and speed sucks breath and then one large rock halts the front tire and I do fly into a welcoming gravel pile in the quarry. Breath knocked out of me, no oxygen and fright from flight—I’m dying. I had never felt the wind knocked out of me before…

Coming back from Honduras, realizing I couldn’t go back—it felt the same. Perhaps the Jews in Joel’s time felt the same—one thing after another, seeing the threat of the locusts… When do we get a respite? Where is our breath?

It seemed that God pulled out all the stops. Pulled the rug out from under them. Their food was gone. The current crop was withered .The granaries were empty. The seed for the future was gone.  

You’ve let this happen to us—Yahweh? What about the promises? The covenant? You expect us to trust you after that?

I’m bigger than you think, He says. You see the pain. I see the opportunity. I see your soul. Come to me.

God is Almighty and powerful—we see him give and take away, the mountains tremble before him, nations and Pharaoh’s brought high and low to exalt him (Ex. 9:6). If we see only that side, we quake. But God has revealed himself in many ways, and it is in his character we trust. He has shown us—the Israelites, myself—that He is loving as well. In both his love and power, we rest. In his wisdom that is beyond counsel, we rest. We look to the cross, the demonstration of his love. We look to his resurrection, the demonstration of his power. We look to the cross, the wisdom of the world made foolish, a wisdom that is beyond our understanding. A mystery too great to fathom.

Slowly, I can breathe again.

The Israelites look back, and see God’s hand in that moment as a call to greater intimacy. They repented and were blessed. Blessed and repaid for the years the locusts had eaten. They had rendered their hearts—and had a greater intimacy with the Lord. Six months after returning to Honduras, I see how the Lord has shown me holes in my heart where I had not been trusting him—and he has led me to trust him again, through the very circumstances that had caused me to doubt. I hadn’t seen the mistrust subtly lying underneath. I can say now, more than ever, He is good and trustworthy.

Be not afraid, O land; be glad and rejoice. Surely the Lord has done great things….The trees are bearing their fruit; the fig tree and the vine yield their riches. (Joel 2:21, 22b)

Job said, “I know that you can do all things; no plan of yours can be thwarted. You asked, ‘Who is this that obscures my counsel without knowledge? Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know. You said, ‘Listen now, and I will speak; I will question you, and you shall answer me.’

My ears had heard of you,

But

 NOW my EYES HAVE SEEN you”

(Job 42:2-5)

Job said, “I know that my Redeemer lives…

And after my skin has been destroyed,

Yet in my flesh I WILL SEE GOD”

(Job 19:25a, 26)