Though the fig tree does not blossom,
          and no fruit is on the vines;
though the produce of the olive fails
            and the fields yield no food;
though the flock is cut off from the fold
            and there is no herd in the stalls,
Yet I will rejoice in the Lord;
           I will exult in the God of my salvation.
God, the Lord, is my strength;
          he makes my feet like the feet of a deer,
          and makes me tread upon the heights. Habakkuk 3:17-19

Habakkuk ends his praise psalm, and the book, with this sublime piece of Hebrew poetry. Here is a commitment to the Lord, come what may. This is no cringing fatalistic acceptance of arbitrary power, but the faith of a man who freely acknowledges that God’s ways are not our ways, but rejoices in his relationship with the Lord of mercy and love.

We need to learn from these words, meditate on them, and build them into our relationship with God. Those of us who know the shelves will be stacked with food into the foreseeable future need to remember those for whom these words are terribly and immediately true today. But the metaphor of barren fields and empty barns describes other deprivations, some very personal, that cannot be changed. As Christmas letters arrive, we hear – along with the good things - of childlessness, marriage breakdown, professional failure, and other apparently hopeless situations.

Dear PV.

As we shop for Christmas, Lord, keep us thankful and keep us generous. And when we are faced with deprivations that are hard to bear, help us still to rejoice in you, our strength and our salvation. Whatever.