There is chaos everywhere I look. I am trapped by bad politicians who make worse policies. Leaders take dominion over people instead of the earth’s resources. Educators pollute innocent minds. Missiles fall on Ukraine. Children explode. In my country, doctors in white coats destroy babies with sterilized weapons. I do not want to think about these things, but they are true.
The walls are closing in on me. I am tempted to join those who’ve lost all hope. Let us eat and drink today, let us be merry! Why not? We’re all going to die tomorrow. Or maybe we won’t die. But our money will be worthless, with even bread beyond our reach. What’s the point of working hard? Why should I plan for the future? What future?
I see the disaster that my nation is chasing, but I can’t make it stop. It’s not the American dream, it’s the American nightmare. It is Solomon’s sorrow. Wisdom is better than strength, he said, but no one listens to a poor man who is wise. His wisdom is despised, his words are not heard. Words of the wise, spoken quietly, should be listened to, not the shouts of a ruler of fools. Even better than tanks and armor is wisdom, but a single sinner destroys much good. (Ecclesiastes 9:16-18).
Yet I am surrounded by sinners.
Then I hear a voice. A still, small voice. A voice that repeats the words of Jesus. I hear Him say, “I will build my church.” What is going on in my world? Jesus is building His church. Construction sites are messy, noisy places. Have you seen one? Mountains of dirt and holes in the ground—like missile craters. Piles of lumber. Dumpsters. McDonald’s cups blown by the wind. Jackhammers, air compressors, diesel engines, backup beepers. I can’t see the blueprints and don’t like the chaos, but Jesus is building His church.
There is a future—a new earth where righteousness dwells. Grab a hammer, grab some nails. There is gospel work to do. The chaos will end. The kingdom is coming.
Nathan Birx, Airville
