The Place That Mourns

12 “Yet even now,” declares the Lord, “return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning;” – Joel 2:12

There must be a place for mourning in our faith. This can take many forms, but all are crucial for us to grow in both our dependence and humility. A thriving saint is not always a joyful vessel. Like Christ, we will occasionally need a stark view into the valley of our soul, as well as the soul of others, to understand the endless prevalence of sin. It is in this, and this alone, where our strength of grace is kindled and refined. It is when we see what could be, that we cry out in battered thanksgiving.

We live in the “not yet” of God’s redemption. We have seen grace take a human form and penetrate history, yet we have not yet experienced His glory in full. We are in waiting – a nagging reality. It is because of Christ’s ministry on Earth, and the continued work of His Spirit through us, that we know what can be. Our souls crave this. We are intoxicated in a deep longing for peace and presence. Life and all it’s burdens weigh heavy with no shortage of disappointments and heartbreak. These serve to point to a better end, one we wish to be ushered in soon for our sake and the sake of those we love. We crave the transcendence of Christ.

When met with the sin of others, we identify and mourn our own sin, knowing it is only by grace that we are purchased the opportunity to choose differently. Yet make no mistake, the same sin that grabs hold of “them” is the same sin that lays ever ready in your own soul. And this is why we mourn, weep, and fast – knowing we are all alike and can only rest on achievements by a broken and lifted savior.