Making All Things New

The weather where we lived then had been dreary for a couple of weeks. It had rained almost every day but more than that, it had been overcast with very little sunshine. I’m not normally a person who pays much attention to that kind of thing but it was hard not to notice. A portion of our back yard resembled a swamp. The better part of it was like a sponge—if you stepped anywhere water just oozed out. The forecast for the next few days called for more rain.

But this was trivial compared to situations other people were dealing with. A friend of mine had his roof damaged by a storm and it had to be replaced. Meanwhile, he was dealing with water leaking into his house in a number of places. Then there were those in other parts of the country who had lost their homes or even loved ones due to severe weather. So the fact that the sunshine had taken a sabbatical where we lived wasn’t that big of a deal. However long the gloomy weather hung around, the clock was ticking and every day that passed was one less day it would be here.

I’m not one of those who believe the Scripture sanctions an escapist approach to life. Jesus’ death, resurrection, and ascension mean that He is ruling, the kingdom has come (and is continuing to come), and God is in the process of making all things new. The idea that disciples are to tuck themselves away in a safe place somewhere and wait out the rain until Jesus returns or they pass from this life sounds more like something the Pharisees would come up with. It’s certainly not a biblical concept.

Disciples are to be out and about as the body of Jesus in the world—doing the kind of things that our Lord would be doing if He were physically present today. This means we’ll receive our share of bumps, bruises, and occasionally something worse. But we shouldn’t expect the world to welcome us any more than it welcomed Him and the fact that we often do says something about us I’m sure.

Look, would you really be interested in a book that promised parenting without pain?  Would you spend money to attend a seminar that guaranteed to teach you how to get ahead in life or on your job without experiencing any conflict or problems? If the choice was between meaninglessness and suffering—wouldn’t we choose suffering?

Writing from prison, Paul tells the believers at Philippi that “it has been granted to you on behalf of Christ not only to believe in Him, but also to suffer for Him” (1:29). Isn’t it our desire, perhaps often subconsciously, for painless growth and transformation that makes us victims when we should be victors? Think of Peter and John who were arrested, flogged, and ordered not to speak in the name of Jesus. You remember their reaction? They rejoiced “because they had been counted worthy of suffering disgrace for the Name” (Acts 5:41).

Let the rain come! We trust in the One who sends it. Let our life be fully used by God in whatever way He sees fit. We trust in the One who gives it. For this we know—the One who loves us and redeemed us is making all things new.

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Published by A Taste of Grace with Bruce Green

I grew up the among the cotton fields, red clay and aerospace industry of north Alabama. My wife and I are blessed with three adult children and five grandchildren.