Habakkuk 3:1-19: a reflection

1A prayer of Habakkuk, the prophet, set to victorious music. 2LORD, I have heard of your fame. I stand in awe of your deeds, LORD. Renew your work in the middle of the years. In the middle of the years make it known. In wrath, you remember mercy. 3God came from Teman, the Holy One from Mount Paran. Selah. His glory covered the heavens, and his praise filled the earth. 4His splendor is like the sunrise. Rays shine from his hand, where his power is hidden. 5Plague went before him, and pestilence followed his feet. 6He stood, and shook the earth. He looked, and made the nations tremble. The ancient mountains were crumbled. The age-old hills collapsed. His ways are eternal. 7I saw the tents of Cushan in affliction. The dwellings of the land of Midian trembled. 8Was the LORD displeased with the rivers? Was your anger against the rivers, or your wrath against the sea, that you rode on your horses, on your chariots of salvation? 9You uncovered your bow. You called for your sworn arrows. Selah. You split the earth with rivers. 10The mountains saw you, and were afraid. The storm of waters passed by. The deep roared and lifted up its hands on high. 11The sun and moon stood still in the sky at the light of your arrows as they went, at the shining of your glittering spear. 12You marched through the land in wrath. You threshed the nations in anger. 13You went out for the salvation of your people, for the salvation of your anointed. You crushed the head of the land of wickedness. You stripped them head to foot. Selah. 14You pierced the heads of his warriors with their own spears. They came as a whirlwind to scatter me, gloating as if to devour the wretched in secret. 15You trampled the sea with your horses, churning mighty waters. 16I heard, and my body trembled. My lips quivered at the voice. Rottenness enters into my bones, and I tremble in my place because I must wait quietly for the day of trouble, for the coming up of the people who invade us. 17For even though the fig tree doesn’t flourish, nor fruit be in the vines, the labor of the olive fails, the fields yield no food, the flocks are cut off from the fold, and there is no herd in the stalls, 18yet I will rejoice in the LORD. I will be joyful in the God of my salvation! 19GOD, the Lord, is my strength. He makes my feet like deer’s feet, and enables me to go in high places. For the music director, on my stringed instruments.

Habakkuk's prayer moves through awe at God's awesome deeds to a place of trembling before the trouble that is coming. But it ends with a remarkable declaration of faith. Though the fig tree does not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields yield no food, though the flock is cut off and there is no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the LORD; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. Habakkuk resolves to rejoice in God even if everything, all provision, all security, is stripped away.

Notice where Habakkuk anchors his joy: not in his circumstances, but in God himself. He imagines total loss, the failure of every crop and flock, complete economic ruin, and still declares, yet I will rejoice in the LORD. His joy does not depend on the figs and the flocks, on provision and prosperity; it rests on God, the God of his salvation, who remains when everything else is gone. That is a joy nothing can take away, because its source is not in what can be lost.

That is the high and hard summit of faith. Most of our joy is tied to our circumstances, rising and falling with our provision, our security, our prosperity. Habakkuk points to a deeper joy, rooted not in circumstances but in God himself, that endures even when everything else fails. When your circumstances collapse, when provision and security are stripped away, is there a joy in you that remains, anchored in God? Ask God to give you Habakkuk's joy, a joy in the Lord himself that does not depend on the figs and the flocks, so that you can say, even in loss, yet I will rejoice in the LORD, for he is the God of my salvation, and he remains.

Lord, Habakkuk resolved to rejoice in you even if the fig tree did not blossom, the crops failed, and the flocks were cut off, anchoring his joy not in his circumstances but in you, the God of his salvation. Give me that joy. So much of my joy is tied to my circumstances, rising and falling with my provision, my security, my prosperity. Teach me a deeper joy, rooted in you yourself, that remains even when everything else fails. When my circumstances collapse and provision is stripped away, let there be in me a joy that endures because its source is not in what can be lost, but in you. Help me say, even in loss, yet I will rejoice in the LORD, for you are the God of my salvation, and you remain. Be my joy, Lord, above all things.