From Barren Fields to High Places: The Unshakable Joy of Faith
Text: Habakkuk 3:17-19
Introduction: A Prophet's Honest Struggle
I want to invite you into the world of a man who was not afraid to argue with God. His name is Habakkuk. We often come to the prophets and see them as untouchable spiritual giants, but Habakkuk was refreshingly human. His book doesn't start with a lofty oracle, but with a raw, honest complaint. He looks at the violence, injustice, and evil in his nation of Judah, and he cries out to God in chapter one, "O LORD, how long shall I cry, and thou wilt not hear! even cry out unto thee of violence, and thou wilt not save!" Does that sound familiar? Have you ever felt that way? "God, where are You? Don't you see this mess? I'm praying, I'm crying out, but all I hear is silence."
God's answer to Habakkuk is shocking. He says, "I am doing something. I am raising up the Babylonians-a bitter and hasty nation-to judge my people." This was like telling an American during the Cold War that God was going to use the Soviet Union to bring about justice. It was unthinkable. Habakkuk is stunned. He wrestles, he questions, he waits. He climbs his watchtower and says, "I will watch to see what he will say unto me."
The entire book of Habakkuk is this journey of a man moving from a place of deep confusion and complaint to a place of unshakable confidence and praise. And the pinnacle of that journey, the grand crescendo of his faith, is found in our text today. It is a song sung from the ashes. It is a declaration made not when everything is perfect, but when everything has fallen apart. And it is here that we find the roadmap for our own faith when we find ourselves in barren fields. Our journey today will follow the path Habakkuk lays out for us: first, by honestly acknowledging the reality of our 'Althoughs'; second, by making the radical resolve of 'Yet'; and finally, by embracing the divine result of 'He Will'.
I. The Brutal Reality of the "Although" (Verse 17)
Let's first look at the foundation of Habakkuk's song, which is a stark and honest inventory of loss. Read verse 17 with me, and feel the weight of each word:
Although the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines; the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls: Let's not rush past this. This is not a poem; this is a detailed economic collapse.
"Although the fig tree shall not blossom..." The fig was a staple food, a source of sweetness and sustenance. For it not to even blossom means there is no hope for a future harvest. It's not just a bad season; it's a failed promise.
"...neither shall fruit be in the vines..." The vine was the source of joy, of celebration. No grapes meant no wine. The gladness of the harvest was gone.
"...the labour of the olive shall fail..." The olive tree was their economy. Olive oil was used for cooking, for light in their lamps, for medicine, for anointing. For its labor to fail means all the hard work, the pruning, the tending it all came to nothing. It was wasted effort.
"...and the fields shall yield no meat..." The word 'meat' here means food in general, the grain from the fields. The pantry is bare. Daily bread is gone.
"...the flock shall be cut off from the fold...and there shall be no herd in the stalls." This is the final blow. The sheep for wool and sacrifice, the cattle for milk and plowing-their assets, their wealth, their protein, their power source-are all gone.
My friends, this is total devastation. It is what we might call a worst-case scenario. It's the business failing, the pink slip arriving, the doctor's bad report, the marriage ending, the child walking away from the faith.
And what is so powerful here is that Habakkuk does not pretend this isn't happening. Faith is not denial. Faith is not putting on a plastic smile and saying "everything's fine" when your world is on fire. Faith has the courage to look at the empty barn, the barren field, the silent phone, and say, "This is real. This hurts. This is not what I wanted." The Bible gives us permission to grieve, to lament, to be honest about our pain. The first step toward Habakkuk's joy is acknowledging Habakkuk's reality. What is your "although" today?
II. The Radical Resolve of the "Yet" (Verse 18)
After this bleak, unflinching list of everything that has gone wrong, Habakkuk performs a spiritual pivot that changes everything. It is perhaps the most powerful use of the word "yet" in all of human literature.
Yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will joy in the God of my salvation. This "Yet" is a holy interruption. It is a declaration of war against despair. It is the conscious, willful decision to change the object of your focus. Habakkuk's eyes move from the barren fields to the faithful God.
Most of the world lives by an "If/Then" joy. "IF I get the job, THEN I'll be happy. IF I get healthy, THEN I'll have peace. IF my kids behave, THEN I will rejoice." It's a conditional joy, completely dependent on circumstances.
But Habakkuk introduces us to a revolutionary kind of joy: an "Although/Yet" joy. "ALTHOUGH the fig tree is barren, YET I will rejoice. ALTHOUGH my labor has failed, YET I will rejoice. ALTHOUGH the stalls are empty, YET I will rejoice."
This is not a joy that comes from circumstances; it is a joy that defies circumstances. How is this possible? Look at the source. He says, "I will rejoice IN THE LORD." "I will joy IN THE GOD OF MY SALVATION."
His joy is anchored not in what is happening around him, but in Who is living inside him. It is a joy anchored in two eternal realities:
1. The Character of God ("the LORD"): Even when the world is chaotic, God is unchanging. He is still sovereign, still loving, still wise, still holy. The barrenness of the field does not change the nature of the Farmer.
2. The Work of God ("the God of my salvation"): Habakkuk remembers that his ultimate hope is not in a good harvest, but in a great salvation. God has saved him, God is saving him, and God will ultimately save him. This present trouble is temporary, but his salvation is eternal.
This joy is an act of will, not an emotion we wait for. It's choosing to sing in the storm because you know the One who commands the winds and the waves. It is deciding that your praise for God will be louder than the problems of your life.
III. The Beautiful Result of the "He Will" (Verse 19)
When we dare to make the choice of verse 18-to say "Yet" to God in the middle of our "Although" something supernatural happens. God meets our declaration of faith with His demonstration of power. Verse 19 shows us the result: The LORD God is my strength, and he will make my feet like hinds' feet, and he will make me to walk upon mine high places.
Let's unpack these three glorious promises that flow from a life of "Yet."
First, "The LORD God is my strength."
When you have come to the end of yourself, when your own strength is gone, you have reached the perfect place to receive His. This is more than just God giving you a little boost. This is a divine transfusion. It is His inexhaustible power flowing into your exhaustion. It is His resurrection life animating your weary soul. When you feel you cannot take another step, He says, "Good. Now let Me carry you. Let My strength be made perfect in your weakness."
Second, "...and he will make my feet like hinds' feet..."
A hind is a female deer, renowned for its incredible, grace-filled agility on treacherous terrain. A hind can leap from rock to rock on a steep mountainside with confidence and security. It doesn't fall. My friends, this is a promise for when you are navigating the rocky, complicated, dangerous places of life. That difficult conversation you have to have. The complex financial mess you are in. The path of grief that feels full of pitfalls. God says, "I will give you the spiritual agility to navigate this. I will give you wisdom, grace, and a sure-footedness to handle this terrain without stumbling into sin or despair." He gives you grace under pressure.
And finally, the climax of it all: "...and he will make me to walk upon mine high places."
This is the ultimate destination. Notice He doesn't say, "I'll make you avoid the valleys." He says the trial itself will become the staircase to a higher place. The "high places" in the ancient world could be places of danger, but with God, they become places of victory, security, and divine perspective. From the valley, all you can see is the mud, the rocks, the shadows. But when God lifts you to the high place, you can see the sunrise. You can see the path He has brought you on. You can see your circumstances from His point of view. The very thing the enemy meant to destroy you becomes the platform for your greatest testimony. The place of your testing becomes the place of your triumph, a place of intimate communion and secure footing with your God.
Conclusion:
Church, the journey of faith is the journey from verse 17 to verse 19. Every single one of us in this room is living somewhere on that path. Some of us are standing knee-deep in verse 17. The fields are barren. The report was not good. The prayer feels unanswered. The tears are real. And if that's you, know this: God sees you, and He is not asking you to pretend.
But He is inviting you to discover the power of verse 18. He is inviting you to look up from the wreckage and whisper that courageous, life-altering word: "Yet..."
"Although this is happening... YET I will rejoice in the LORD. Yet I will place my joy in the God of my salvation." That simple, defiant act of faith is the key that unlocks the power of verse 19. It is the bridge from the barren field to the high place.
What is your "although" that is screaming for your attention this morning? What loss, what fear, what failure is dominating your vision? I invite you, right now, in the quietness of your heart, to hold that barrenness before the Lord. And then, I invite you to make Habakkuk's choice your own. To let your praise of God be your victory over your problem.
Because when you do, He promises to meet you there. He will be your strength. He will give you feet for the journey. And He will lift you up to walk with Him, secure and victorious, upon your high places.
