There is a strange phenomenon for the genuine Christian that presents itself in constant tension. We are always joyful, yet ever sorrowful. We have abundant happiness because of our blessed Savior, yet the continual dripping of sin that nags at us each and every day. Our hearts are glad, for we know the truth of what God has done for us in Christ, yet we mourn. We look with eager anticipation to inherit every blessing promised to us—yet still, we must wait.

Both sorrow and joy intermingle, for though we have been forgiven all our sins, we are yet disposed to sin again—and this sin whipped our Lord. This sin bruised and ripped the flesh from His tender back and placed a crown of thorns upon His head. This sin, even that which we have yet to commit, was nailed to His feet and hands, and pierced His side. It was your sin and mine—our voices even—that cried, “Crucify Him!” The blameless One was crushed for our transgressions, and we are no victims in this cosmic exchange.

Thus, the true Christian groans. Yet we do not groan merely because of past sin that nailed Christ to the cross. The Christian groans for the weariness of that constant struggle between righteousness, which leads to life, and unrighteousness, which leads to death. At present, our heart and soul are at war with one another. We straddle between two ways of life: the straight and narrow way we know we ought to always be on, and the road plagued with thorns and brambles that we so often return to even on our best days. We waiver between belief and unbelief, doubt and confidence, hope and despair, and yet in all things we rejoice, for though our sin is great, our Savior is greater.

If it is not due to our own sin that we groan, we groan as we yet wait for all things to be redeemed. The weariness of living in a broken, fallen, and sin-ridden world touches even the most sheltered in this life. Babies die, wars break out, natural disaster strikes, diseases come and go, and our great adversary Satan is continually at war with the saints. Each and every way we look, the effects of sin, death, and Satan reach to the most remote corners of the earth. No stone is left unturned under the weight of the curse. Not even the most beautiful places on earth are free from the Fall. In one unified voice, both creation and the forgiven sinner yearn for the day when all is made new.

Yet such groaning and yearning is not merely contained to this life. Even as the faithful martyrs of old find themselves free from the pain of life, they live in a similar tension. Free from their bodies sown in sin, they wait for their bodies to be raised and glorified. Free from the vicious hands that shed their blood, they wait for final vengeance to be poured out. Free from the effects of the curse known in life, they still wait for the curse to be lifted, and for the redemption and renewal of all things. Even as they currently rejoice, they long for the day all is set right.

The tension all true Christians face is the same tension all of God’s people have faced—and one that is, in some ways, still present even for those who have passed from this life, to life eternal. It is a natural tension in the sense that we all should feel it, though it is unnatural in the sense that things are not yet as they should be. Despite how very bleak this position of weakness seems to us, it is one of profound hope and joy, for our attention is always and ever turned back to the One who has conquered sin, death, and Satan.

In Christ, we find not only the fullness of forgiveness, we find true life. It is not that we merely wait for life to come, but that presently, we have experienced the new birth. While we were yet dead in sin, Christ died for us, and gave us true life in Him. While we were once slaves to sin, we have been made slaves to righteousness. Even as we were once sons and daughters of Satan and enemies of the living God, we have now been adopted into His royal family and been made His friend. Even the vilest sinner has been washed in the blood of the Lamb to be made as white as snow.

Despite how grievous our sin has been, is now, and will always be—it fills the true Christian with wonder and praise. He has borne away the fullness of wrath reserved for us. The Father has declared us “just” in His sight, not on the merit of anything we can do, nor even on the strength of our own will—but purely through the active and passive obedience of Jesus Christ. Though our soul is always at war within, He gives us the Spirit as our Comforter and Keeper. He seals us for the Day of Redemption so that even the one of weak faith shall not be lost on that day. He sanctifies us day by day, stamping the very likeness of Christ on us so that we reflect our Savior. He is not content to merely leave us “as we are,” but transform us into the very image of His Son.

Yet even here, we do not stop rejoicing in all that God has done. Though we live by faith in what is to come, He satisfies our souls in the midst of our longing to be fully free from the curse. Our affections are not misplaced into longing for a paradise apart from Jesus; our hope is to go and be with Him in the perfections of Him making all things new. Though we may see through a glass dimly now, the object of our faith, the Lord Jesus Christ, is always set before our eyes. Day by day, it is not that things become darker and darker in our perception of our Redeemer, but that He becomes clearer and clearer. As death looms, so too does life, for to die is gain for the Christian.

In all things, He presents Himself as our refuge and strength in this life. He is near when we sense all is hopeless. He is tender to the bruised reed when all become vicious. He lifts up the downtrodden, bears the burdens of the weary, and stays by the side of the righteous when they are afflicted and betrayed. He is the constant One, our ever-present Companion, though all may depart from us. He sees all, knows all, and hears all—and despite how very fickle and sinful our hearts may be, He loves us even still. He is our ever-present Shelter from the storm, the ever-faithful Provider of our every need, the ever-graceful Sustainer for our sin-sick, weary souls.

This same God who is near to His children at all times through Christ is yet removed from this world in the most splendid of ways. He is unmoved by the various passions of men, for in Him is no shadow of turning. He is unchanging in His promises, for in Him is no deceit. He sovereignly directs all things according to the counsel of His will—and yet this impassive, sovereign decree of God is for our good in all things. In everything, we rejoice, knowing that the transcendent God of all rules and reigns from His throne, and He will not be thwarted. He will come again from the clouds with myriads of the heavenly host and with fire to conquer and subdue every last enemy, yet simultaneously to fully and finally redeem His sons and daughters.

Therefore, though we may be plagued with much sorrow, we rejoice, knowing our heavenly Father will accomplish all that He has set out to do. In His infinite perfections, we find solace in both the here and now, and in the age to come. This is the strength of the Christian. It is not in himself, nor in his fellow man, nor even in this broken and fallen world that causes much vexation. It is in God alone, for He is our sole hope and joy. Daily take this medicine, oh weary soul! For though you have much reason for sorrow and will until all is set right, you nonetheless find true, lasting peace in the One who keeps you safe by His mighty hand.

“Remember my affliction and my wanderings, the wormwood and the gall! My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me.

But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.

“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, “Therefore I will hope in him.”

Lamentations 3:19-24