Sovereign Goodness

by Greg Grotewold

Life is full of sad stories. Like this one. A medical examiner’s office in upstate New York recently concluded its investigation of a two-year-old boy’s death earlier in the year. It was determined that the toddler had died of starvation after his father (the only other person living in the house) had died of a heart ailment. By the time a welfare check was performed, it was too late. The two bodies were found in the father’s bedroom.

This is not the way things are supposed to be. It’s becoming clear that the world is categorically broken, perhaps irreversibly so. And for those like me who lack a certain intestinal fortitude, the prevalence of such suffering can cause deep sadness.

But feeling sad, as a blood-bought believer, is okay, I’ve learned. Sadness need not be the antithesis of hope. The two emotions can coexist, for the former clings to that which can be seen and the latter to that which can’t. “Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for which he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience” (Romans 8:24-25, ESV). One is today’s reality, and the other tomorrow’s. Someday my faith will become sight, and I will be in the glorious presence of Jesus. Until then, Paul tells me to wait patiently. Easier said than done, though. What do I do with my growing angst over disease and death, a culture hellbent on its own moral destruction, my own sinful contributions? Paul provides that guidance, too:

May [the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory] give you the Spirit of wisdom and of revelation in the knowledge of him, having the eyes of your hearts enlightened, that you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power toward us who believe, according to the working of his great might that he worked in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the one to come. (Ephesians 1:17-21, ESV, bracketed language rearranged).

I grow my ability to endure the sickness when I grow my understanding of the One who will eventually deliver me from it. In other words, I need to enlighten my heart with a clearer view of Jesus’s sovereign goodness. He makes colossal promises throughout Scripture, but none more seemingly outlandish than the gift of a glorious inheritance for all who trust and obey Him. In any other sphere of life, it would be lunacy to hope in such things. Not Jesus. Not Heaven. Glorious promises are only fulfilled by glorious sources of power. And His prowess is both immeasurable and unparalleled. Nothing— no rule, authority, power, or dominion—will preclude Jesus from delivering His children into Glory. Nothing. Colossians 1 provides even greater illumination as to His power.

He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him. And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent. (15-18, ESV)

These four verses are very dear to me. I go to them when the world gets me down, which means I frequent this passage often. Jesus Christ creates all things, holds all things together, and is before all things. These facts tell me He is able to keep His promises. Such assurance regarding the future is what allows me to face the present. May His sovereign goodness do the same for you.