“I will make peace your governor and well-being your ruler. No longer will violence be heard in your land, nor ruin or destruction within your borders, but you will call your walls Salvation and your gates Praise.” Isa. 60:17-18
Lord Jesus, thank you for all the hope crammed into these two verses. Thank you for the coming Day of no more “violence, ruin, and destruction”—no more “death, mourning, crying, or pain” (Rev.21:4)—no more war or rumors of war, meanness or madness in any form. “Peace be our governor” and “Well-being our ruler.” Thank you for promising it, securing it—now we long for you to bring it to pass. How long O Lord?
Your empty tomb and occupied throne are my ballast and balance this morning. Jesus, I own my weariness and wariness about the war in Iran. That’s not a political statement; it’s a heart-aching lament. The war with Iran is just the most obvious and current expression how broken our world is—and of how ready we are for you to return and finish making all things new, Jesus.
You promised wolves, lambs, calves, and lions will live together in kindness (Isa.11:6-9). Your return will eradicate all the evil you have already defeated (1Jn.3:8). Your glory will fill the earth (Hab.2:14). Your beauty will supplant all ugliness. Your goodness will sabotage all badness. We will see you as you actually are, and we will be made like you (1Jn.3:1-3). Thank you, but when is all this Gospel-goodness actually going to happen, Lord?
Until then, show us how to live by the Gospel not by the sword—by the way of your cross not the ways of mere men—by expectant faith not paralyzing fear—by extending your love not pulling down our shades. So Very Amen.
