Habakkuk 3:17-19 
Even though the fig trees have no blossoms, 
and there are no grapes on the vines; 
even though the olive crop fails, 
and the fields lie empty and barren; 
even though the flocks die in the fields, 
and the cattle barns are empty, 
The Sovereign Lord is my strength! 
He makes me as surefooted as a deer, 
able to tread upon the heights. 
(For the choir director: This prayer is to be accompanied by stringed instruments.) (NLT)

Though the cherry trees don’t blossom 
and the strawberries don’t ripen, 
Though the apples are worm-eaten 
and the wheat fields stunted, 
Though the sheep pens are sheepless 
and the cattle barns empty, 
I’m singing joyful praise to God. 
I’m turning cartwheels of joy to my Savior God. 
Counting on God’s Rule to prevail, 
I take heart and gain strength. 
I run like a deer. 
I feel like I’m king of the mountain! 
(For congregational use, with a full orchestra.) (MSG)

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Months of physical therapy and recovery protocols, followed by orders to take it easy, soon diminish physical capacities. At least, that’s the way I’ve heard it told. There’s nothing like chronic pain to make you feel older than you are, or older than you realize you are. 

Habakkuk was a man who understood thoughts like these. Seemingly, everything had gone from bad to worse to worst. Nothing was going right. All the trend lines were running toward the negative. The good times were over for good. 

Even so, God’s goodness is undiminished. God’s strength overflows into welcoming lives. God’s precision is abundantly available. God’s capacity to empower his chosen ones, his welcoming ones, extravagantly exceeds our needs. 

Sometimes, a single acoustic guitar simply strummed suggests something of our moods. However, when we lean into God’s goodness even in seasons of setbacks and losses, we cannot help but hear strains of an orchestra beyond our age warming up for the concert of the ages. The most beautiful music ever written, the most glorious songs ever sung, will soon fill every corner of reality with pure loveliness never before sampled. 

Can you hear it riding the gentle breeze?

Can you feel it in your body as it arrives, wave after wave?

Ultimate recovery is on the way. Ultimate healing is near. Ultimate reality renews all things. 

Even though everything is diminished at best and destroyed at worst, God gives a song of hope and assurance that soon the bad times will be over for good. 

How could we not sing?

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I will whistle the hopeful tune arriving from heaven on high.

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Our Father, fill our hearts with your joy, our minds with your peace, and our bodies with your strength. You remove every good thing preventing us from experiencing your best things. You renew everything that is running out, wearing down, breaking beyond repair. You are welcoming every heart turned toward home. How could we not sing your praise? Amen.