When You brought the prisoners back to Jerusalem, the holy city of redemption where Your people dwell, it seemed as if we were dreaming. It seemed too good, too impossible to be true--that the blood of Jesus could cover all our failure and weakness, setting us free and empowering us with a supernatural Spirit that makes the mountains move. Your grace was so much more beautiful than any reality we had ever known, we found it difficult to believe it was reality at all.
Then we were filled with laughter, and we sang happy songs. When the truth of Your freedom began to set in, joy bubbled up and spilled over in our hearts. We just wanted to sing Your praises all day long, proclaiming to Heaven and Earth the riches of Your glorious salvation, telling the story over and over again of how You had rescued us. "Oh, happy day, happy day, You washed our sin away!"
Then the other nations said, "The LORD has done great things for them." People began to notice how oddly we were behaving. They saw our joy, but didn't understand it. They thought it was strange and beautiful. They were jealous of our happiness (even if they did think we were stark, raving mad). They didn't realize that You could do great things for them, as well. So they watched us as outsiders.
Yes, it's true. You have done great things for us, Your children, and we are very glad. We can never thank You enough. For that matter, we cannot even fully grasp the immensity of all that we have to thank You for. Still, when we dwell on all the past promises You have kept, all the miracles You have performed, all the deep waters You have walked us through, it makes us smile.
LORD, return our prisoners again, as You bring streams to the desert. But God, our struggle is not over. We have gotten distracted. We have allowed ourselves to become slaves again. Set us free from our complacency. Reveal Your greatness to us again. Bring a flood to our parched land. We are scanning the sky for a cloud, Father. We are asking for water, we're asking for You. Rain down.
Those who cry as they plant crops will sing at harvest time. Those who cry as they carry seeds will return singing and carrying bundles of grain. No matter what sorrows try to tear us down, we will not give up. Right now it seems ridiculous, that pushing these tiny seeds in the dirt will ever amount to anything. Especially in the middle of this drought. But You have promised us a harvest, God. You have promised that those who weep in the night will have joy in the morning. So we won't quit, though it may seem like the fulfillment of Your promise is long in coming. Because we know that You will come through just in time, and our songs will rise once more.
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