Sermon notes from Pastor Zairreus Patterson at One Community Church on Habakkuk's journey from questioning God to rejoicing in him before circumstances change.
Pastor Zairreus Patterson · One Community Church
Part of the series Faith That Shows Up.
How did Habakkuk get from arguing with God in chapter 1 to singing to God in chapter 3? He opens with confusion and grief, but closes with celebration and glory.
Though. Yet. Because of God.
Judah has become corrupt. Violence fills the land, and God announces that he will judge his people through the Chaldeans, the empire of Babylon.
Habakkuk hears this and trembles. He must wait quietly for an invasion he cannot stop.
Have you ever received bad news that caused you to tremble because you knew it was coming and there was nothing you could do about it?
Habakkuk takes account of everything that could go wrong: no figs, no grapes, no oil, no harvest, no sheep, no cattle.
He names the loss he is preparing to face. Even the future looks empty.
But that is not the end of the story.
Habakkuk has heard the bad news and counted the losses. Yet he chooses to rejoice in the God of his salvation.
Why? Because the Lord is his strength.
What happened between “How long?” and “Yet I will”? If we can understand that movement, we can recognize faith that shows up.
Life changes without asking permission. One phone call, one doctor's visit, one conversation, one unexpected loss can turn the life you planned into the life you have to survive.
Sometimes the hardest part is the uncertainty: God, where are you? Why them? Why me? Why now?
This is faith in the hospital waiting room, in the marriage that still hurts, with the child who still has not come home, when you have done everything you know to do and heaven seems silent.
Some people did not walk into church. They crawled in. Behind the smile is worry, grief, anxiety, or tired faith. Worship may be a whisper. Prayer may be a sigh.
Though the marriage still hurts. Though the diagnosis was not what I prayed for. Though my child is still running from God. Though I have prayed and nothing seems to change.
The question is not whether you will have a though. What will your faith do when your though comes?
When Pastor Patterson pushes his youngest son on the swing, his son keeps asking, “Daddy, higher.” He does not ask for a strategy, credentials, or a five-year plan. He trusts the person pushing him.
Yet on the swing of life, we stop and ask God to explain every push.
We want tomorrow's explanation before we give God today's obedience.
Faith is not knowing every next step. Faith is knowing who is directing your steps.
Prophets typically speak to people on God's behalf. Habakkuk speaks to God on the people's behalf, questioning and arguing.
He sees Judah's corruption and collapsed justice and asks, “How long?” God answers that he is raising up Babylon. Habakkuk's problem deepens: why use a kingdom worse than Judah to judge Judah?
Sometimes God's answers create deeper dependence rather than greater understanding. God does not explain everything. He gives Habakkuk a revelation of himself.
The righteous live by faith, not by explanation or by everything making sense.
By chapter 3, Babylon is still coming. Judgment is still coming. The circumstances have not improved, but the prophet has.
God was not merely doing something for Habakkuk. God was doing something in Habakkuk.
While you focus on what you are waiting for God to do around you, consider what God may be doing within you.
Faith is not believing God will always change your circumstances. Faith is believing that your circumstances cannot change your God.
Faith believes God's character even when it cannot explain God's conduct. It refuses to interpret God through circumstances. It interprets circumstances through God.
The diagnosis, economy, relationship, job, plans, and your entire life can change. None of that changes God. Because he does not change, faith has something to stand on when everything else shakes.
Before the yet, there is a though. Habakkuk names the devastated reality he is preparing to face without allowing it to determine what he believes about God.
We sometimes rush people through the though because we cannot wait to get them to yet. But God inspired verse 17 just as much as verse 18.
God is not embarrassed by your pain or uncomfortable with your questions. He does not require you to pretend.
Faith tells the truth about reality without making reality God.
You can trust God and admit you are disappointed. You can believe the Bible and say you do not understand.
Scripture includes faithful people who cried, lamented, and struggled: David, Jeremiah, Paul, and Jesus in Gethsemane. Jesus did not deny the cup. He surrendered it.
Following Jesus does not mean you will never hurt or have questions. Difficult seasons are not necessarily evidence that you have done something wrong. Faithfulness and struggle can occupy the same space.
Your circumstances have a voice, but they do not get the final word.
Unbelief does not always look like atheism. Sometimes it looks like control, anxiety-driven planning, or refusing to move without a guaranteed outcome.
Planning, preparation, and wisdom are not wrong. The question is:
Is my plan an act of stewardship or an attempt to live without needing God?
Even experienced faith can become compartmentalized: trusting God with eternity but not your schedule, with heaven but not Tuesday.
Ask, “Where is God asking me to trust him now?” Faith is not something we graduate from.
On a swing, keeping one foot on the ground can give a false sense of security: if you fail me, I still have this.
But when his son's feet leave the ground, he depends on the one pushing him. His laughter says, “Daddy, I know you've got me.”
When did you last face something you could not fix, change, or resolve and say, “God, I know you've got me”?
You do not have to understand every push when you know the one behind it.
Nothing in Habakkuk's circumstances changes between verses 17 and 18. Habakkuk changes.
Worship is not merely singing songs in church. Worship is my whole life's response to the worth of God.
Habakkuk is not celebrating suffering. He is declaring that suffering does not determine God's worthiness.
Habakkuk remembers God's power, faithfulness, deliverance, and character. He gains a bigger view of God and a clearer view of himself.
Waiting reveals you to you. You thought you were patient until God made you wait. You thought you trusted until he stopped explaining.
Waiting also forms things. Patience requires something that cannot be hurried. Trust requires something that cannot be controlled. Endurance requires something you cannot immediately change.
Sometimes the wait is not standing between you and God's purpose. Sometimes the wait is part of God's purpose.
What if God is building something in you that an immediate answer could never produce? What if someone else needs to see you trusting God while the field is still empty?
This does not mean every delay is God withholding something until you learn a lesson. God's providence cannot be reduced to a simple formula. But God wastes nothing.
Alongside “God, when will you get me out of this?” pray:
“God, what are you building in me while I am here? Show me something about you I could not see before. Build something in me that comfort could never produce.”
There is a difference between waiting on God and merely waiting for circumstances to change.
We can spend the wait staring at the door, refreshing email, checking the account, or watching the phone. But Habakkuk's confidence has an object: God himself.
The greatest gift God can give you is not something from his hand. It is himself.
When everything else changes, God is your constant.
Pastor Patterson tells of a retired music teacher who answered a student's daily request for good news by striking a tuning fork: “This is middle C.” Others might sing flat and the piano might need tuning, but his reference point remained constant.
The illustration points to Jesus. Whatever is unstable or out of tune around us, he remains holy, sovereign, faithful, good, and worthy.
Maybe waiting is not always God bringing everything around you into tune. Maybe God is retuning your heart.
Habakkuk does not merely say that the Lord gives him strength. The Lord is his strength.
God's strength does not mean you never get tired, cry, or ask for help. Sometimes strength is getting out of bed. Sometimes it is admitting, “I cannot do this myself.” Sometimes it is obeying while your emotions scream something else.
God's strength does not always make you feel strong. Sometimes it simply keeps you from quitting.
You cried, but you kept going. You grew tired, but you kept going. You had questions, but you are still here.
Looking back, you realize it was God sustaining you, not your own strength. Not because you were always strong, but because he has always been faithful.
Christian maturity is not God making you strong enough to stop needing him. It is realizing more deeply that true strength means depending on him all the more.
Habakkuk describes feet like a deer's, able to navigate rocky heights. He does not say God removed the mountain. God changed his footing.
Sometimes God flattens the mountain. Sometimes he strengthens your feet.
Babylon is still coming. The future is still uncertain. But God has formed a faith that can stand where the old Habakkuk could not stand.
His situation did not get easier. Habakkuk got deeper.
Eventually, Pastor Patterson's son begins pumping his own legs on the swing. He no longer keeps looking back to check whether his father is still there. That has already been settled.
The father who pushed him has not abandoned him.
Stop spending the whole ride looking behind you. Recount what God has already done. While you wait for him to work in your circumstances, look at what he has already done within you.
Between “How long?” and “Yet I will,” Habakkuk's view of God became bigger than his view of his problem.
Faith is not pretending your mountain is small. It is remembering that your God is great.
Faith is not saying the diagnosis is not serious. It is saying the diagnosis is not sovereign.
Faith is not saying grief does not hurt. It is saying grief does not have the final word.
Faith is not saying, “I understand.” Faith is saying, “I know him.”
Jesus did not merely tell us to trust God through unanswered questions. He trusted God through unimaginable suffering: Gethsemane, Calvary, and the tomb.
Though he was crucified. Though he was buried. Though the disciples scattered. Though hope appeared dead.
Yet Jesus rose. God wrote yet over the grave.
When I cannot trace his hand, I can trust his heart, his power, and his character.
Habakkuk's bigger view of God's strength, deliverance, and faithfulness moved him from though to yet: I will rejoice because God is my strength.