Habakkuk: How Can I Be Heppy?

Call to Worship

Hab 3:17-19

Prayer of Adoration

O Lord, our God, You are higher than our thoughts and wiser than our understanding. Before a word is on our tongue, You know it; before a nation rises, You ordain it. Your plans are perfect, even when we cannot see them; Your timing is flawless, even when the world confuses us.

We marvel at Your omniscience, for You see the end from the beginning. Nothing escapes Your sight—neither the injustices that shake our hearts, nor the secret longings of our souls. Yet in all Your wisdom, You govern with purpose, justice, and mercy.

Teach us to trust You when we cannot comprehend, to rest in Your ways when the path seems unclear, and to rejoice in the One who knows all things and works all things for the good of those who love Him.

O God, we worship You for Your perfect knowledge, Your sovereign wisdom, and Your unsearchable plans. All creation bows to Your insight; all hearts are called to honor You.

In Jesus Christ, the revelation of Your wisdom and the fulfillment of Your counsel, we lift this praise. Amen.

Pastoral Prayer

Heavenly Father, we thank You for bringing us together in this place and for every gift You have given—life, breath, and the joy of Your Word. We ask now that You would open our minds and hearts to understand Your truth. Illuminate our eyes to see Your wisdom, soften our hearts to receive Your correction, and strengthen our faith to trust You in all things. Provide for our needs, both seen and unseen, and remind us that You are our portion and our delight. Speak to us through Your Word today, and may we leave rejoicing in Your goodness and resting in Your promises. Through Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.

Sermon

Introduction: The Search for Happiness

Every person who has ever lived has chased the same thing. We all have chased happiness. The ads know it. The songs promise it. The self-help books pretend to deliver it. Our own Declaration of Independence even has a famous line declaring the pursuit of happiness as an unalienable right. Happiness obviously means a lot to us and we give up more than we ever imagined in order to try to get it.

But happiness keeps slipping through our fingers. It always seems to depend on the next thing—a better job, a kinder spouse, a different season, a healthier body, a calmer world, more stuff. If I could just have* this thing* then I could be happy.

Communicated in a more morbid way, the 17th Century French mathematician and physicist, Blaise Pascal, whose insight still exposes our own hopeless pursuits for happiness—whether in success, pleasure, or distraction— once said that "every action of man is aimed at happiness—even those who hang themselves." That’s haunting, isn’t it?

Every choice we make, is a confession that we want to be happy, but few of us know where to find it.

Habakkuk was asking the same question, but with far more on the line. His world was collapsing—violence in his streets, corruption in his nation, and an enemy empire on its way. He wasn’t asking small questions like, “How do I feel better?” He was asking, “God, how can I rejoice when everything’s falling apart? How can I trust You when I can’t make sense of You?”

That’s where this book begins: a man crying out to God in confusion and pain. And by the end, he’s singing for joy. Habakkuk’s story is the journey from fear to faith, from complaint to contentment, from “How long, O Lord?” to “Yet I will rejoice.”

So the question of Habakkuk—the question of every human heart—is this:

“How can I be happy when everything is wrong?"

I. The Question of Happiness: How Can I be Happy? (1)

Exposition

Habakkuk doesn’t begin his book with cheerful worship or a call to repentance. He begins with a complaint to God.

Habakkuk 1:1–4

1 The oracle that Habakkuk the prophet saw. 2 O Lord, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not hear? Or cry to you “Violence!” and you will not save? 3 Why do you make me see iniquity, and why do you idly look at wrong? Destruction and violence are before me; strife and contention arise. 4 So the law is paralyzed, and justice never goes forth. For the wicked surround the righteous; so justice goes forth perverted.

That in itself should strike us as strange. It should make us go "wait a minute, what's going on here?" Because, most prophets speak for God, but Habakkuk speaks to God. Where most prophets proclaimed sermons to the people; Habakkuk is a prayer from the depths of the prophet’s heart.

He looks around Judah and sees nothing but moral collapse. The courts are corrupt. The poor are crushed. The wicked seem untouchable. “The law is paralyzed,” he says, it’s gone numb. The Torah, the very Word that once defined Israel’s life with God, has no power to restrain evil anymore!

So Habakkuk cries out, “How long?” That question has a long history in the Bible. The psalmists cried it (Ps. 13:1; 79:5). Job said it in his pain. The martyrs in Revelation echo the cry until the day that Christ will come and make all things right (Rev. 6:10).

It’s the cry of faith that knows God could intervene, but for some reason hasn't yet.

The prophet is wrestling with the silence of God.

When you believe God is good and powerful, yet you’re sitting beside a hospital bed, staring at a pink slip, watching a marriage crumble, or your family member turning their back on you and Christ, you’re standing where Habakkuk stood—where faith meets the ache of reality. When you believe God is good and powerful, but all the evidence says otherwise, that is where we find the pressure point of faith.

So here in this little book, Habakkuk is standing right in the middle of a world of wickedness, and he's asking the oldest and hardest question: If God is just, why does evil thrive?

And here’s where the world’s version of happiness collapses. Where the self-help books and moralistic preaching will fail you.

If happiness means ease, control, or positive vibes, then the book of Habakkuk is bad news. But the Bible defines happiness, true happiness, not by the things we have, or the amount of control we have over our lives, or how much we have life figured out. The Bible defines happiness by who we trust.

God’s Response (vv. 5–11)

God does answer. But not the way Habakkuk hoped.

Habakkuk 1:5–11 ESV

5 “Look among the nations, and see; wonder and be astounded. For I am doing a work in your days that you would not believe if told. 6 For behold, I am raising up the Chaldeans (another name for the Babylonians), that bitter and hasty nation, who march through the breadth of the earth, to seize dwellings not their own. 7 They are dreaded and fearsome; their justice and dignity go forth from themselves. 8 Their horses are swifter than leopards, more fierce than the evening wolves; their horsemen press proudly on. Their horsemen come from afar; they fly like an eagle swift to devour. 9 They all come for violence, all their faces forward. They gather captives like sand. 10 At kings they scoff, and at rulers they laugh. They laugh at every fortress, for they pile up earth and take it. 11 Then they sweep by like the wind and go on, guilty men, whose own might is their god!”

God says, in effect, “You think I’m idle because you don’t see me working? I’m actually raising up Babylon to be my agents to destroy the wickedness of Judah.”

God is raising up a pagan empire to wipe out the remaining Israelites because of their unfaithfulness.

This cure feels worse than the disease.

But God’s response shows His holiness isn’t sentimental—it’s sovereign, totally in control.

He will deal with wickedness, but He will do it in His way and His time, through means that probably will unsettle our expectations.

Habakkuk expected God to act; we often assume He won’t. Habakkuk was troubled because he believed too much in God’s justice; we’re often untroubled because we believe too little.

The Gospel: God’s Final Answer

So if we ever ask “How could God tolerate wrong?” He doesn’t, He never has. Instead He waited and sent His Son, Jesus. God Himself came and showed His commitment to justice and holiness in ways far more profound than Habakkuk could have understood. Christ suffered and died on the cross precisely because God was adamant about not tolerating wrong—that justice would not be perverted and that the wicked would not finally prevail over the righteous (Rom. 3:21–26).

At Calvary, divine justice and mercy kissed. God’s wrath was satisfied, His righteousness upheld, and His goodness vindicated. Habakkuk’s trembling question finds its full answer not in Babylon’s fall but in Christ’s death and resurrection.

Pastoral Application

This tension still lives close to home today. We see faithful believers who pray for healing that doesn’t come, parents pleading for wayward children, workers who lose their jobs after doing everything right, and families crushed by injustice. These are the moments when faith and suffering collide, when we ask the same hard questions Habakkuk asked. In a world so full of suffering, how can we be happy?

And how does Habakkuk respond to his situation? He prays.

And there’s a deep lesson in the way Habakkuk prays. He doesn’t walk away from God when life doesn’t make sense. Instead, he looks at his pain and takes it straight to God.

In the midst of pain, confusion, and loss, how we respond matters. It is normal and right to lament in horrible situations, but sometimes that lament can turn into rebellion.

The difference between rebellion and lament? Rebellion accuses God in unbelief; lament appeals to God in faith.

When your prayers start to sound like Habakkuk’s—when you say, “How long, Lord?”— you’ve actually started walking the same road that leads to joy. Because joy is never born out of denial. It’s born out of trust—trust that God hears, that He knows, and that He will act in His time.

So, yes—it’s okay to be angry. It’s okay to be confused. God would rather hear your honest cry than your polished pretense. The Psalms are full of believers who shouted their confusion into heaven. The difference is, they shouted to God, not about God.

Our culture says, “Fake it until you make it.” Scripture says, “Pour it out until God fills it.”

Learning to Pray Like Habakkuk

So we can actually look to Habakkuk’s prayer is a model for our own prayers. It’s raw, honest, reverent, informed. He prays not about comfort but about covenant faithfulness. He assumes that God can and will do something. Habakkuk’s anguish came from knowing Scripture deeply—he knew God’s character, His law, His promises. That’s what made his lament faithful.

And if we’re being honest Habakkuk’s deeply emotional, but fully informed prayer exposes how small our prayers can often be.

Where we so often focus on our needs and wants — or the needs and wants of our friends and family — Habakkuk’s prayer is utterly focused on God and his righteousness, expecting God to act the way he said he would in previous centuries. Habakkuk knows who God is and is pleading with him to keep his promises.

Now, I’m not saying that we should never pray about our needs, that would be an equally unbiblical position, but I think many of our prayers would be greatly improved if we started focusing much more on who God is instead of what we’re asking of Him.

But if we would pray like Habakkuk, we must know God like Habakkuk. We must saturate our minds with His Word until His character shapes our instincts. Then our prayers will be honest and full of faith, not small and self-centered.

Our happiness will never be found in our self-centeredness. It will never be found in denial of the reality of God.

Happiness, and more importantly joy, is found in knowing and trusting that God hears, He knows, and He will act in His time.

Transition

But as we’ll see, God’s answer to Habakkuk’s prayer doesn’t bring immediate relief. It actually deepens the confusion. Because the God who seems silent now speaks—and what He says forces Habakkuk to face the paradox of happiness: that sometimes faith must rest in the God who makes no sense to us.

II. The Paradox of Happiness – Faith in the Midst of Confusion (2)

Exposition

In the first chapter Habakkuk asks questions, hears God’s response and then asks more questions.

When Habakkuk finishes those first rounds of questions, he doesn’t storm off or give God the silent treatment.

He stations himself like a watchman on the wall. Chapter 2 opens with the prophet waiting:

Habakkuk 2:1 ESV

1 I will take my stand at my watchpost and station myself on the tower, and look out to see what he will say to me, and what I will answer concerning my complaint.

And that’s a picture of what faith in God looks like before the God gives his response.

Habakkuk doesn’t demand that God fit into his timeline—he settles in and waits to hear from God.

If you really think about the image of a watchtower, it’s a powerful image.

The watchman can’t make dawn arrive any faster; his job is simply to stay awake, waiting and watching, until it comes.

That’s what Habakkuk is doing—he’s holding his post until the light of God’s answer breaks through the darkness.

So friends, waiting on God should not be a passive resignation; it’s active dependence. It’s the readiness of faith that says, “I will stay right here until God speaks.”

And when God finally does speak, His response isn’t what Habakkuk expected. God doesn’t give a detailed explanation of why evil prospers or when Babylon will fall. Instead, He gives a promise and a principle.]

Habakkuk 2:1–4 ESV

2 And the Lord answered me: “Write the vision; make it plain on tablets, so he may run who reads it. 3 For still the vision awaits its appointed time; it hastens to the end—it will not lie. If it seems slow, wait for it; it will surely come; it will not delay. 4 “Behold, his soul is puffed up; it is not upright within him, but the righteous shall live by his faith.

That last line is the pivot point of the whole book—and one of the most important sentences in the entire Bible.

The righteous shall live by faith.

Paul uses this verse to build his theology of justification in Romans and Galatians. The author of Hebrews uses it to call believers to endurance. And five centuries ago, this line shattered the heart of a young monk named Martin Luther and ignited the Reformation and the journey to reclaim the Word of God from the clutches of the Roman Catholic Church.

But in Habakkuk’s context, it isn’t a theological abstraction—this is a survival strategy.

God is saying,

“You won’t see all My justice now. And you are going to hardly believe it is my justice,

but Babylon will rise; and Babylon will fall.

My timing won’t match yours.

But the person who is right with Me will live—

not by sight,

not by success,

but by faith.”

And that’s the paradox of happiness:

Happiness doesn’t come from everything making sense.

It comes from trusting the One who is the very Creator of sense, even when He doesn’t explain Himself to us.

In that time, Faith in Him is the only bridge that can take us from confusion to joy when God doesn’t make sense to us.

Pastoral Application

Just as Habakkuk lived between the promise of God and His fulfillment, you and I live in a similar reality.

Life is often an unfinished sentence in God’s story. We pray, we wait, and heaven stays silent.

Some of you are standing watch like Habakkuk—

praying for a prodigal to come home,

pleading for healing that hasn’t come,

waiting for reconciliation that seems impossible,

working hard and watching everything you’ve built collapse around you.

And somewhere in your heart, you’ve whispered, “If I just understood what God was doing, I could be at peace.” But Scripture says the opposite: you’ll only be at peace when you trust what God is doing—especially when you don’t understand it.

But hear me clearly, Faith is not pretending to see what isn’t there. It’s holding fast to what God has already said, even when you can’t see it yet.

That’s why “the righteous shall live by faith” isn’t just a salvation verse—it’s a life verse. It’s about the daily faithfulness of believers who walk through the fog and keep going.

Happiness rooted in our understanding will crumble the moment confusion and frustrations comes. But happiness rooted in faith will endure—because it’s built on God’s unchanging character, not our ever-changing circumstances.

Illustration

There is a children’s book called The Moon Is Always Round. In it, a father teaches his son an important truth about God’s goodness. When the little boy looks up at the sky and sees only part of the moon, the father reminds him, “The moon is always round.” Even when clouds hide it or the shadow of the earth covers it, the moon hasn’t changed—it’s still whole.

That became the lesson the boy had to hold onto when tragedy struck their family. When life grew dark and confusing, when he couldn’t see God’s goodness, his father told him again, “The moon is always round.”

The point is simple: what you see in the moment isn’t always the whole truth.

The moon doesn’t stop being round just because you can’t see its fullness.

And God doesn’t stop being good just because you can’t see His purpose.

Faith remembers that. Faith says, “I don’t understand what God is doing, but I know who He is.” The shadows may hide His face, but they can’t change His character.

So happiness—real, steady, soul-deep joy—isn’t about having a clear sky every night. It’s about knowing that even when everything looks dark, the moon is always round, and God is always good. That’s what faith in God is.

Christological Connection

And if we want to see this kind of faith in full bloom, we look to Jesus Himself. He lived by this same principle — by entrusting Himself to the Father even when the Father’s will led Him to a cross.

When He prayed in Gethsemane, “Not my will, but yours be done,” He was living out Habakkuk 2:4—the Righteous One living by faith. He trusted that beyond the darkness of Friday was the dawn of Sunday.

So when we find ourselves faithfully waiting, watching, and wondering what God is doing, we are walking the same road our Savior walked. And if that road led Him to resurrection, we can trust it will lead us there too.

Transition

And that’s where Habakkuk finally lands. Once faith becomes the lens through which we see the world, we begin to discover that happiness isn’t rooted in what happens to us—it’s rooted in who God is.

Which brings us to the final paradox of the book: joy not in circumstances, but in God Himself. In chapter 3, the prophet who once cried out in confusion now sings in worship:

And the entire book of the prophecy ends with a profound statement of faith:

Habakkuk 3:17–18 ESV

17 Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, 18 yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation.

III. The Secret of Happiness – Rejoicing in God When Everything Falls Apart (3)

Exposition: Habakkuk ends his prophecy with a picture of total collapse. The fig tree doesn’t blossom. The vines produce no fruit. The olive crop fails. The fields are barren. The sheep are gone. The stalls are empty.

In other words—the economy has totally crashed, the pantry is empty, and all hope for a bright future is gone.

And yet, Habakkuk says something that sounds almost impossible: “I will still rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation.”

This is the turning point of the entire book—and really, the turning point of the Christian life. This is where everything changes.

Habakkuk’s circumstances haven’t changed, in fact, according to God they’re going to get worse.

But something far more important has changed: his heart.

He’s moved from fear to faith, from complaint to contentment, from “How long, O Lord?” to “I will rejoice in the Lord.”

And this change isn’t a naïve optimism. It’s a defiant joy. He isn’t pretending the pain isn’t real, visualizing success on the horizon, or going to his happy place.

He’s looking through the pain—beyond the ruin—to the God who never changes. He’s looking past the darkness to remember The Moon is Always Round.

The difference between despair and delight isn’t in what you see—it’s in knowing what is true even when you cannot see. Habakkuk knows Yahweh is good and that he will keep his promises. And that’s enough.

Theological Focus: This is what covenant faith in God looks like: “The Lord God is my strength.”

True happiness isn’t the absence of trouble. It’s not the perfect job, or family, or church. True happiness is belonging to God.

Habakkuk’s joy comes not from filled barns or bank accounts, but from belonging to a faithful God. He shows us the same faith Christ displayed on the cross—trusting His Father even when every visible sign of blessing was gone.

In both cases, joy isn’t dependent on what God gives; it completely relies on who God is.

God Himself is the treasure.

He is the portion that cannot fail,

the fountain that never runs dry,

the anchor that holds steady when everything else drifts away.

Pastoral Application:

You cannot base your happiness on your circumstances, because your circumstances will fail you.

Habakkuk had no reason for happiness—no crops, no livestock, no safety—but he still rejoiced because God Himself was his portion and his treasure.

When everything else is stripped away, what’s left is what you truly worship.

If your joy depends on something that can die, then your joy will die when it does.

But if Christ is your joy, then nothing—not even death—can take it from you.

Habakkuk 3:17–19 shows us that true happiness is not tied to circumstances. Even when crops fail, flocks are gone, and life seems to collapse, Habakkuk declares: “Yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation”. His joy rests not in what he has, but in who God is.

For Non-Christians: Ask yourself: “Can I be happy under any circumstances, or is my happiness tied to things that can fail or be taken away?” Where your joy ultimately rests shows who or what your god is. Christ came to rescue us from the slavery of sin and from placing our happiness in passing pleasures. Trusting Him brings a joy no circumstance can destroy—pleasures that satisfy eternally.

For Christians: We should ask ourselves if our discipleship depends on life going well. True joy calls us to follow Christ even when it costs us pleasures, comforts, or ambitions. Real happiness is found in God, not the shadows of satisfaction we chase in sinful pleasures or fleeting circumstances. Habakkuk models the posture of faith: meditating on God, trusting His promises, and rejoicing in His character above all else.

For the Church: A congregation cultivates joy by focusing on God, not just activities. God-centered teaching, thoughtful corporate worship, and lives saturated with the Word help members grow in their knowledge and delight in God. Sharing testimonies of His faithfulness and studying faithful believers’ lives—like Amy Carmichael, William Carey, or George Whitefield—can strengthen a church community that rejoices together in the unchanging God.

Takeaway / Closing Thought: Happiness is found in God Himself. Individuals and communities alike grow in joy as they know Him, trust Him, and model that trust for one another. As Augustine reflected, “You move us to delight in praising You; for You have formed us for Yourself, and our hearts are restless till they find their rest in You.” Habakkuk ends with worship because he discovered that the pursuit of God Himself satisfies the restless heart.

Illustration: There is little I enjoy more than a total power blackout on a clear night.

Sure, I may lose the proper function of my refrigerator and AC

My TV and clocks

My stove and microwave

My artificial light and any other technology I have come to rely on.

But in the middle of a blackout is one of the rare times that I get to see the millions and millions of stars, literal galaxies. All the cosmos are finally visible in all their glory. I can finally see the glory that has always been there.

But where do they go when all the streetlights and porchlights come back on? Do they disappear and leave?

No! They’re still there in the sky, but I am too blinded and too distracted by the artificial light I am making to be able to see them anymore. The far more impressive light lies behind all the earthly lights that I depend on.

So friends, the Lord may sometimes take away what you love most, not to punish you, but to prove that He is enough.

He may darken every other light in your life so that you stop being distracted and blinded by them and that you can now see His glory.

Taking those lights away is not cruelty, even if it makes you scream and cry—it’s mercy.

It’s how He teaches us the secret of happiness: that joy rooted in Him cannot rot away.

Climactic Gospel Connection:

And the only way to have that kind of joy is to know the God who entered our suffering. Jesus Christ took the collapse of the world onto Himself. He lost everything—honor, comfort, even the pleasure of His Father’s gaze—so that you could gain everything in Him.

Habakkuk’s “Yet I will rejoice” finds its fulfillment at the empty tomb. Christ triumphed through loss, the loss of His own life, so that our joy could never again be destroyed.

Because when Christ rose, He rewrote the soundtrack of human sorrow. Every lament in Scripture is now a prelude to resurrection. In fact, after the struggle of the first two chapters, the entire final chapter of Habakkuk is a song of rejoicing in God!

That’s why the Christian can say, “Though the fig tree withers, yet I will rejoice.” Because the tomb of Christ stands empty.

The worst thing that can happen to us is not the last thing that will happen to us. This present trial will not live longer than our own short lives. Yes, it may continue until our deaths, but then it will be over. And to the Christian that is a very comforting statement, because we know that death is not the end. And on the other side of death is our King waiting patiently to declare to us, “Well done, my good and fairthful servant. Come and find your rest.”

Closing Line / Big Idea: So friends, how can we be happy? Not by getting everything you want—you will only find happiness in trusting and worshiping the God who never changes.

Transition to Conclusion: Habakkuk begins in fear and ends in faith. He starts with complaint and finishes in song. That’s the road every believer must walk: from confusion, through trust, into worship.

And one day, that song will no longer rise from the ruins but from glory. Every “Yet I will rejoice” in this world will echo forever in the presence of the Lamb, where sorrow is gone and joy is complete.

Conclusion

Habakkuk’s story doesn’t end with God fixing everything. The fields are still empty. The barns are still bare. The future still looks uncertain. But the prophet is no longer afraid, because he’s learned what can’t be taken from him.

He’s learned what we all must learn: joy that depends on the gifts of will vanish when the gifts do, but joy that rests in God Himself will endure forever.

When your health fails,

your plans crumble,

your children wander,

and your strength is gone

if Christ is your treasure, then your joy is secure. Because your joy, your treasure, is seated at the right hand of the Father, ruling and reigning, untouched by decay or loss.

Faith doesn’t deny the storm exists; it anchors you to stand fast through it.

Habakkuk shows us that the secret of happiness is not escaping pain and sorrow, but rejoicing in a God who cannot fail.

That’s not an emotional mood. That’s worship. That’s covenant faith.

So when the fig tree doesn’t blossom in your life, when the vines yield no fruit, when your heart feels like an empty field—look up and remember The Moon is Always Round. The Lord is still good and He is still your strength. He still makes your feet like the deer’s; He still enables you to walk upon the heights.

And one day, your faith will become sight. The trembling prophet will stand on solid ground. The song born out of the ruins will fill the heavens, and every weary believer will join in the chorus: “The Lord God is my strength. He has made me glad.”

Let’s Pray

O Lord, our joy and our salvation, teach us the secret of Habakkuk’s faith. When the fig tree does not blossom, when the vines bear no fruit, when all that once seemed sure is stripped away— let our hearts still sing, “Yet I will rejoice in the Lord.”

Make us a people who find happiness not in what You give, but in who You are. Strengthen the weak knees, steady the trembling hands, and lift our eyes to Christ, who lost everything to give us everything.

As we wait for the day when faith becomes sight, keep our hearts rejoicing in You, our faithful God, our strength, our song, and our eternal joy. Through Jesus Christ our risen Savior we pray, Amen.

Confession and Repentance

As we’ve seen in Habakkuk, faith always ends in turning. The prophet began with fear and confusion but ended with repentance and worship—and that’s where God calls us now.

We’re going to take a few moments for personal repentance and confession before the Lord—to respond to His Word in humility and faith.

If you have never trusted and followed Christ, this moment of repentance looks like surrender. It means coming to the end of yourself—to admit that your life is broken by sin, that your joy has been built on things that cannot last, and to call on Jesus Christ for mercy. He bore your guilt at the cross and rose from the grave so that you could be forgiven and made new. Faith in Him is not adding religion to your life; it’s the death of the old life and the beginning of real joy.

If you are a believer, repentance today means returning to the God you already know—releasing your grip on what you’ve been trying to control, confessing where you’ve doubted His goodness, and renewing your trust in His promises.

We’ll take a few moments now to pray quietly where you are—to confess, to thank, to surrender. After this time of reflection, we’ll sing together in worship, rejoicing in the God who saves and sustains us.

Lord, we come before You humbled by Your Word. We confess our pride, our fear, our doubt, and our attempts to live by sight instead of faith. Forgive us for trusting in what fades instead of in You who never fail. Renew our hearts to rejoice in Your salvation, even when the fields are empty. Teach us to say with Habakkuk, “Yet I will rejoice in the Lord.” In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Scriptural Assurance

Friends, hear the good news: For all who turn to Christ in faith, your sins are forgiven, your standing is secure, and your joy is safe in Him. As God declared through Habakkuk himself,

“The righteous shall live by faith.” — Habakkuk 2:4

Transition to Song: Brothers and sisters, having confessed our sin and received the assurance of God’s mercy, let’s stand and sing our trust. Whatever He ordains is right—always wise, always good, always faithful. Let’s lift our voices and rest in that truth as we sing, “Whate’er My God Ordains Is Right.”

Benediction

Go now in the peace and strength of the Lord your God. When the fig tree does not blossom and the vines bear no fruit, may you still rejoice in the God of your salvation. May Christ be your treasure, your song, and your joy in every season. And may the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God the Father, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit keep your hearts steadfast until faith becomes sight and sorrow gives way to praise.

Amen.