Behold, I Am Doing Something New

“Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.” — Isaiah 43:19 ESV

Resurrection Sunday reminds us that we are not a people without hope. We don’t read of atrocities or experience searing loss in our communities without holy hope grounding us in what’s true: that the story isn’t over until it ends in love. Goodness and flourishing are still the plan, no matter what.

When Isaiah declared on behalf of God, “Behold, I am doing a new thing,” he was referring to Hebrew liberation from Babylonian captivity, a much hoped-for deliverance for those suffering. With policy and plans architected for harm and dominance, freedom would have felt impossible, yet Isaiah claims a new thing is happening, and goes on to question the perception of those who yearned for freedom. Implying that discernment is necessary to catch what’s about to happen, because ultimate victory would not be won by weapons or warfare, but with life marked by love of God and man. Even more, he states, “I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert,” inferring that provision and guidance can be expected amid chaotic times. God will be God, and is forever faithful. A lifeline when the reality of their situation was grim. Too many of us can relate. 

As we imagine what communal refreshment and growth look like in our communities, we can be encouraged by words written thousands of years ago that confirm what we know to be true: God is still faithful, and God is still working out goodness, often in unexpected ways. As participants in the work of renewal, we must remember what’s true when reality feels beyond bleak. 

A prayer ritual I often practice that echoes the hope of Isaiah 43:19 is to, like the Psalmist, declare what’s true of reality, however unfortunate, and then claim what’s true of a God who draws near. 

Using Psalm 86:14-15 (ESV) as an example, we can write our own poetic psalms that acknowledge hardship yet hold tight to hope.

O God, insolent men have risen up against me;

    a band of ruthless men seeks my life,

    and they do not set you before them.

But you, O Lord, are a God merciful and gracious,

    slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness.

The Psalmist doesn’t sugarcoat the situation; he’s honest with himself and his God, and goes on to describe who he knows God will be. In the same way, Isaiah implored the Hebrews to remember who God was and would continue to be. May we go and do likewise. Never denying the weight and complexity of our problems, but naming the harm and heaviness that has marred our season and souls. Too many of us have had the bottom drop out, only to find it can always get worse. Yet, God remains steadfast, caring, compassionate, and near. Our comfort and solace. We hold these tensions knowing that we are fully seen and known, and the companionship of God will never waver. 

On this Resurrection Sunday, it may feel jarring to celebrate the liberating love of Jesus when so many we know are suffering, or perhaps we are barely hanging on ourselves, yet we can be sure of this: our God makes a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. Life tucked in Christ is both our path through the impossible and refreshment and sustenance. Like the patriarchs and matriarchs who have gone before us, we can assess and acknowledge our aches, fears, and pains, and in the very next breath declare what’s true of the God who loves us and partners with us for goodness.

Breath Prayer

Inhale
Although the world is bruised and broken,

Exhale
I trust Love is my strength, my song, my story. 

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