One of my favorite lines from any song comes from the hymn It is Well. Whenever I sing, “Lord, haste the day when my faith be made sight,” I feel it deep in my bones. I am weary of this world and long deeply for the day when I can see Jesus face to face. We are a broken people living in a broken world. We know the story. God created all things and called his creation good. Mankind, created in his very image, was called very good. Our first parents were tasked with caring for God’s good creation and they had the privilege of unfettered fellowship with their Creator. Eventually, the tempter showed up, planting seeds of doubt. Adam and Eve did the one thing that God had told them not to do. Their sin ushered in severe and lasting consequences: the earth was now cursed, and all generations carry the weight and burden of sin in our minds, hearts, souls, and bodies. Humanity was no longer whole, but broken. Since then, we keep trying to find different ways to put together the broken pieces of ourselves, but everything eventually falls apart again. 

While we are burdened by sin, we still hold in us a shadow of what was meant to be and what once was. We instinctively live our lives in pursuit of wholeness and fulfillment. We know that things are not as they should be. We know that we are missing something. The good news of the Gospel is that Jesus came to reverse the curse of sin. His work on the cross provided a way of reconciliation and an avenue to wholeness. His resurrection from the grave not only signals a defeat of death and sin, but also shows us that there is nothing—not even death itself—that can keep us from his love and his goodness. When we recognize our sin and embrace the work that Jesus did on our behalf, we are given the Holy Spirit to dwell within us. We are not left to ourselves. And while this points us to a future hope with an eternal joy, we still must live in the tension of a broken world. We are left with the remnants of our old self that resist being left behind in light of our new reality. We are a broken people who are waiting for the ultimate fulfillment of our redemption. A life with Christ only amplifies our longing for wholeness because we have gotten a tiny taste of what is to come. 

I have always been acutely aware of my own brokenness. Grief is always at my fingertips. I have a hard time looking at the world with any kind of optimism because this world is broken right along with me. In a psalm of repentance, King David acknowledge that he was conceived in sin (Ps. 51:5). While this is true of all of us, I regularly feel this weight. I was conceived in sin and born into darkness, and that darkness has followed me my whole life. My birth right is not goodness, but destruction. I share this in common with many of the biblical characters. A lot of us do. This is why we need Jesus, they say. They are right, and I wholeheartedly believe this. Jesus has saved me, but it isn’t easy living this tension. I am already saved and justified, but the fullness and consummation of my redemption is yet to come. The troubles of this life often leave me to wonder if it I will really come at all. I do believe it, but doubt is never too far away. Maybe my faith is fragile. Yet: Jesus continues to hold me fast. He continues to shine his light in the darkness, and I continue to cry out “help my unbelief.” 

Too often we talk about Jesus as if he is a magic stuffing that fills the emptiness. Walk the aisle, pray the prayer, be baptized, and all will be well. We are tempted to use faith as a band aid for gaping wounds. But when life gets hard, and it will, where does this leave us? Many want to give up. Others try to “out good” the hard, the struggle, and the emptiness. Legalism won’t save us or make us whole. Neither will this broken world. Both will disappoint. Jesus isn’t a magic pill, and our salvation will not make our troubles go away. Jesus told us so: “In this world you have tribulation” (John 16:33). Pain, sorrow, trauma, and death are ever-present realities. But what if we weren’t made for brokenness, but wholeness? What if wholeness is not just a future spiritual reality, but a journey that starts now in this life? These are scary questions. Brokenness has been etched into my very being. Can it ever be any different? 

There’s no avoiding trouble; we all encounter it. For some it will be especially chronic and profound. It can be easy to make the suffering and brokenness our defining characteristic. It can be so easy to forget that in Christ there is a new reality and a new identity: forgiven, loved, and whole. After telling us that we are guaranteed tribulation, Jesus reminds us to have courage even in the trouble. Why? Because he has overcome the world. Jesus suffered, died, and rose again so that we can be declared whole and righteous before the Father. It is through his suffering that we have hope of anything different. He understands the pain, the darkness, and the despair because he lived it. Our Savior meets us where we are, binds up our wounds, and wipes our tears. 

Scripture uses a lot of language about taking off and putting on. We take off the old self (sin) and we put on the new self (Christ’s righteousness) (Eph. 4:22-24). In a similar way, we cast off our brokenness and put on the wholeness that Jesus gives us. We don’t just declare it to be true. We don’t just ignore the dirtiness, the sorrow, or the suffering. We don’t shed the broken identity by pretending that everything is magically fixed. We pursue wholeness by actively engaging in our brokenness. Just as we are to name our sin, turn from it and trust that it is no longer held against us, we must also name our brokenness, our suffering, our grief, and our wounds. It is then we can start to heal. Neither turning from our sin nor healing from brokenness is to be done in isolation. It is God’s good gift that he has equipped people on this earth to help us in those processes. We are not on our own.  

Suffering does not get the final word. Right now our mirror is cloudy, dirty, and smudged. Day by day it becomes a little clearer. But there will be a day when our faith really will be made sight and “He will wipe every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain” (Revelation 21:4).