Waiting for God’s Answers

To stand watch on the ramparts is to commit oneself to the protection of others.

Habakkuk stood on the ramparts to await God’s answers to difficult questions. Questions such as “Why do you idly look at traitors and remain silent when the wicked swallows up the man more righteous than he?” (Habakkuk 1:13, ESV). He asked these questions to seek answers for the Israelites about their delivery from slavery.

Like Habakkuk, we can stand on the rampart to wait for God’s answers to the difficult questions we want to write about. Our commitment to seeking answers from God can lead to stronger writing with clear explanations for others seeking the same answers.

Before we write, let’s ask God our difficult questions and wait on the rampart for his answers.

Habakkuk 2:1 (ESV)—I will take my stand at my watchpost and station myself on the tower, and look out to see what he will say to me, and what I will answer concerning my complaint.

Following the God Who Saves

Daniel 3:26 (ESV)—Then Nebuchadnezzar came near to the door of the burning fiery furnace; he declared, “Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, servants of the Most High God, come out, and come here!” Then Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego came out from the fire.

Hand wrapped around a yellow Neutrogena bottle, I squeezed and thick, white lotion spurted into my hand. Slathered on, the lotion formed a transparent white smear on my legs, and I danced to the water to cool my sand-scorched toes.

After a while, I returned to the shore, slapping on more SPF 50. Only this time, sunscreen mixed with sand, leaving a gritty layer on my skin and, later, the realization I’d missed a spot and gained a touch of sunburn on my left foot.

King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon offered Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego a sunscreen of sorts: worship his golden idol to avoid death in a furnace. The three Hebrew men had to choose to worship Nebuchadnezzar’s god and live or to stay faithful to their God and face death. A temporary measure, for sure, given this king’s past threats on these men’s lives (read Daniel 1).

Did they apply the offered sunscreen to protect themselves from the king’s threats? No. They chose the only surefire method of coming out without a touch of sunburn: God. The men refused to worship any other god and the king ordered them thrown into a fire hot enough to kill the men who delivered them to the furnace.

These men, when faced with death, did not apply the sunscreen of living in the shadow of an earthly king; they chose to live in the light of the true God. Their walking out of the fire without even singed hair or a whiff of smoke on their bodies proved God’s power even to Nebuchadnezzar (who, may I add, still tried to display his own power by threatening to kill anyone who spoke against God).

Indeed, God’s power protects better than the threats of any earthly king, greater than any protection we try to apply to ourselves. God offers us the only fail-proof protection. He gives us as his followers “great salvation” and “shows [us] steadfast love” (2 Samuel 22:51), better than any SPF that fades with time.

And like Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, we can walk into the fire without fear and come out as a shining example of God’s power to overcome any trial. Who needs sunscreen when we follow the God who saves?

Abiding in the Valley

Mountain valley covered in snow in the Swiss Alps
A building set in a mountain valley with a stream running through, located below the Ebenalp mountain peak in Switzerland.
Psalm 23:4 (ESV)—Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

Many a valley has captured my attention. I’ve hiked the hills of Glenwood Springs, Colorado, gazing down on yellow aspens in the fall. In Switzerland, I’ve gawked at the Alps from a train car winding its way through the rugged mountains, the valley views spectacular from above and below. I’ve sat in the passenger seat while my husband drove us on the winding Pacific Coast Highway, traveling from valley through clouds and above the clouds, the white floor stretching out like a vast flatland meadow.

Valleys give us good reason to not fear “the valley of the shadow of death.” The valley is alive with God’s creation. The trees provide the oxygen we need to live; bathe us in shade on hot summer days; and of course give us a tangible, up-close picture of God’s creation. Clouds can warm the earth at night, protect us from the sun’s heat during the day, cast rain on the earth, and warn of inclement weather.

The valley also plays host to God’s people, and God uses the valley to protect and provide for his people. For example, in the story of Isaac and Abimelek, Isaac moved to the Valley of Gerar, after the Philistines filled the wells of his father, Abraham. Isaac’s people dug more wells, but others disputed ownership of the first two. The third, undisputed by others, “he named it Rehoboth, saying, ‘Now the Lord has given us room and we will flourish in the land’” (Genesis 26:22).

The valley, though sometimes shaded with our troubles, also offers hope. From the valley, we can move our gaze upward to our Father and pray for his provision and protection. Indeed, when we feel as if we’re in a valley, we can “abide in the shadow of the Almighty,” our “refuge and fortress” (Psalm 91:1–2).

Resting in the Mystery

Numbers 9:21 (ESV)—And sometimes the cloud remained from evening until morning. And when the cloud lifted in the morning, they set out, or if it continued for a day and a night, when the cloud lifted they set out.

I perched on the edge of my seat on the bus, on the lookout for wildlife and the top of Mount McKinley in Denali National Park. Hoards of bears, a fox, a flock of dall sheep, a herd of caribou, and a moose later, at the end of the road, the clouds still obscured Mount McKinley, its view a shroud of mystery (except for thousands of photos on the internet, of course).

For the Israelites, the cloud of God led them through the desert. When the cloud descended on the tabernacle, the Israelites made camp, and when the cloud lifted, they broke camp and traveled through the desert, an arduous journey for sure.

The people trusted in God even with the mystery of the cloud’s timing. They allowed God to lead and followed in obedience.

Today, God still sets the pace of our journey, though not in the form of a physical cloud. His protection comes in the form of a friend telling us we need to slow down, in jobs appearing when we need them most, in anxiety attacks telling our bodies enough is enough.

The next steps of God’s plan for us, whether shrouded in thick, dense fog or clear for miles and miles, come when we sit in God’s presence. In this place of rest, we can find assurance and can ask for wisdom to separate his plan from our own.

For sure, God’s plan is a mystery whose revelation unfolds in his timing. While we wait though, he provides a cloud of comfort, peace, and protection.