In this Advent Season we plead for God to restore us; and we’re tempted to cry out for a former time when life seemed better. The truth is, if we could go back, when we got there, it wouldn’t be the same.
In many of my favorite memories with Grandpa and Grandma, our family was sitting around their table. She was a meat-and-potatoes-chocolate-cake-with-seven-minute-frosting kind of cook. Delicious.
None of these sad truths seem to fit the questions we normally ask about American wars: “Are we winning?” “Are we safer?” “Who are the good guys, and who are the bad guys?” Rather, in the Battle for Mosul, all the major players are “bad."
We will all find ourselves in the position of the psalmist at some point: desperately thirsty, cut off from the source of life. Each of us will come to a place of feeling lost, of feeling far from the Lord.
In the past decade or so, the march toward globalism and our settled faith in democracy have gone largely unchallenged; however, a variety of political chickens have come home to roost in this past year, exposing the messy reality of systemic corruption and manifesting in a surge of populism around the world.
Does our soul pant for God in the same way that a dog that has been playing outside on a hot summer day pants for a bowl of cold water? Do we really long for fellowship with God? Or do we just take a sip as we pass by out of habit, rather than because we are really thirsty?