The reality of the broken world in which we live has been increasingly evident to me the past few weeks. In fact, it seems that the older I get, the more I see the fallen state of this world.
I hear more and more stories of pain and suffering and death and disease in the lives of others; stories that simply make no sense and realities that are hard to swallow.
News reports become more grotesque and hard to believe (i.e. the story of what has happened in Norway recently).
I see the damaging effects of sin in relationships and the extent of sin that is present in people (myself included).
I know many who are in blatant sin and rebellion and completely blinded to their selfishness and I know even more (again, myself included) who are trying to call people out of that sin and rebellion and selfishness to no avail.
Even as I write this, I am holding back tears that have seemed to be more readily flowing lately. These instances just keep pouring in. Life is just really difficult sometimes.
And yet, in the midst of all of this, I am realizing that the older I get, the more I long for my Home. These stories point me to the reality of eternity in ways that nothing else can.
I ache for the day when all these wrongs will be made right.
I cling to the hope that someday, pain will be erased and joy will be complete, perfect, and unending.
And so, in the midst of the pain and discomfort and sorrow, I rejoice.
I rejoice because the things of this world are not ultimate. They are fleeting. They will soon pass and will usher in an inexpressible beauty and peace that can't even be imagined this side of heaven. And if I didn't feel the results of sin in such a real and present sense here on earth, I wonder that I would be able to fully love and appreciate and delight in what awaits.
I am realizing that maybe those things which are the most painful to bear, the most disheartening, are the very things that my Savior uses to remind me of all that He has won for all of eternity. They are the ever-present reminders that there is something more.
And so, these things become not just burdens to bear, but the very things in which I rejoice. They remind me that though I live in this world at present, my citizenship--my home--lies in the place I was created for, a place that will make every second of suffering more than worth it; a place that will make this very real and evident pain pale in comparison to the joy of eternity with our Savior that is set before us.
It's a sorrowful, beautiful, painful, devastating kind of rejoicing. And it's just another evidence of the great paradox those of us who are in Christ live in--who live in a broken and hurting world, and yet who live for an eternal and perfect Kingdom and the King who is still on His throne in the midst of it all.
"We are...as unknown, and yet well known; as dying, and behold, we live; as punished, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, yet possessing everything. " 2 Corinthians 6:10
