Joy Amidst Desolation
Although the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines; the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat. Hab. 3:17-18
Judah was in decline. “The burden which Habakkuk the prophet did see.” Habakkuk was arguing with Jehovah. “O LORD, how long shall I cry, and thou wilt not hear!” Babylon was knocking at the door. “They are terrible and dreadful: their judgment and their dignity shall proceed.” Our prophet stands a lone voice, echoing the refrain of the heart of faith when God and His creation betray its abundance. This poetic lament captures not just the fragility of life but, more potently, the undying spirit of a soul that finds its sustenance not in the verdant fields or bountiful orchards but in the very essence of the Divine. We walk with this saint of old, traversing landscapes of desolation, only to discover that beneath the barren branches and fallow fields lies the resounding fruit of unwavering faith.
"Although the fig tree shall not blossom..." The fig tree symbolizes peace and prosperity in Scripture. Yet when it is in its barren state, it echoes those moments of spiritual dryness, when our soul feels parched, and the fruits of our spiritual labors seem distant to non-existent.
"...neither shall fruit be in the vines;" The vine, known for its grapes, is emblematic of joy and celebration. But a vine bereft of fruit speaks to seasons when our hearts walk in weariness, when the sweetness of communion feels distant, and our habits of faith feel more ritual than relationship.
"...the labour of the olive shall fail..." Olives and the oil they made were integral to life in ancient Israel. That oil was used for nourishment, anointing, and lighting. Their failure (in their use) hints at times when we might feel the light of the Spirit’s guidance dimming or the richness of His presence seems to ebb.
"...and the fields shall yield no meat..." These fields, once a bursting cornucopia, now in their barren and desolate state, remind us of those seasons when the clarity of God's purpose or the abundance of His provision feels wanting.
"...the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls." Abundant herds and flocks were a measure of wealth and blessing in the Bible, but in their absence, the empty stalls represent the leanness of the soul, the daunting season of promises forgotten, and a missing communion of the saints.
All these, by sin.
Yet, amid the cold images of desolation, Habakkuk confidently declares,
"Yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will joy in the God of my salvation."
What are we reading? The heart of a believer…anchored. His confidence in God is not rooted in tangible blessings but in the immutable character of Jehovah Himself. The foundation of the believer’s joy is not their circumstance but their Savior. In the weave of life, believers will encounter threads of trial, tribulation, and even tranquility. Yet, the constancy and the depth of their joy do not rest upon the ever-fleeting shadows of circumstances. The world may tether stuff and joy together, but the believer's joy is anchored in something - or rather, Someone - infinitely steadfast. Our Savior, Jesus Christ, who embodies pardoning mercy, love, grace, and eternal hope, remains unchanged and unchangeable. And so Habakkuk reminds us, in seasons of abundance as well as the drought of adversity, that the believer can draw from a wellspring of joy that is undiminished. Jesus said, “but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life."
Oh, that we would actually believe this and could actually do this! Dear soul, this drink flows from the unwavering love and blood of our Redeemer.
As the prophet concludes, he proclaims, "The LORD God is my strength." A testament to the divine strength the Spirit provides, lifting our hearts and guiding our steps, making the child of God nimble and adept, even in life's rocky terrains. Why? Because he is leaning on his Savior. That’s the key. “The LORD is my strength.”