How are you holding up? Whether or not it’s the best of the times or the worst of times, we can certainly say it’s not the most peaceful of times. Instead, the news ticker smacks us each hour with another breaking story of calamity. Tragedy, natural disasters, and political unrest circle us constantly. We’re left wondering what’s ahead: Will these tensions ever loosen, or will it only escalate? Most of us spend each day with a nervous grin, sipping coffee with the viral cartoon dog trying to convince ourselves “this is fine” while the flames erupt around us.

Trouble in this world isn’t a surprise. As Christians, we know it’s not only a possibility but a certainty (John 16:33). Sin will cause brokenness, injustice, and despair. We’re mere sojourners, after all. We travel and live for a time—waiting for our better home. In the meantime, we’ll feel the groans of the labor that takes us there one wave at a time (Rom. 8:22).  

How then should we live as we wait? As beautiful as the prize will be, anxiety still quickens our hearts as we swipe on our phone. It doesn’t seem to mask the gnawing feeling of uncertainty as we go about our day while the world burns. God doesn’t respond to these fears with cheap encouragement and a “cheer up, bucko, it will all be ok.” Instead, he sees our grief and meets us with the greatest of encouragement—for he has walked the very same road.

The Road to Calvary

Jesus not only came to earth as the Son of God, but as man—“like his brothers in every respect,” yet without sin (Heb. 2:17). Just as he became the greater Adam and the better Israel, he presented us with a picture of the perfect human—made in the image of God and fully obedient to him. And just like us, his human life on earth was a sojourning. He didn’t stay for long. Instead, he moved each day towards an end, a telos, that was both glorious as well as terrifying. 

Every day Christ took one more step closer to the excruciating death he'd experience on behalf of you and me. This wasn’t hidden from our Savior. Jesus reminded his disciples about it repeatedly (Matt. 17:22-23, 20:18; Mark 8:31).  His every decision and act moved him closer until the timing was exactly right. And when the journey came to its bitter end, our Savior wept alone in the garden and asked the Lord to make another way (Matt. 26:39). 

Christ didn’t only tell us to hope in God and all goodness to come, he lived it out himself—blood, sweat, and tears included. In this final act in the garden of Gethsemane, Christ reminds us that he knows what it is to feel the weight of looming destruction and sorrow. He walked through it so that he could become our great high priest who could sympathize with us in every way (Heb. 4:15). Christ knew the victory that would come from his death on the cross. He willingly walked toward it because he knew that the ending was only hope, life, and the greatest joy. Yet while he knew what it was to joyfully follow his Father, he also knew what it felt like to pray for another way.

I wonder how many other saints throughout history have clung to the same hope as they navigated their own crushing circumstances. While Corrie and Betsie ten Boom sat in the bunks of the concentration camp, did they feel the comfort of weeping Jesus in the garden? Did Dietrich Bonhoeffer cling to the brotherhood of his Savior who walked the similar road toward destruction? We need not wonder; we know they did.

At some point in our lives, each of us will echo the words of Frodo Baggins: We will wish these trials had never come to us. We will wish none of this had happened. Maybe we even feel it now. When the darkness of our days feels too paralyzing, we can look at the Savior who walked the same dusty path towards darkness. He entered into it, lived it, and he too, prayed for deliverance, so that he could comfort his children within our own journey to the difficult, but beautiful, end. 

While We Wait

Not only can we find comfort from the Savior who walked the same road, but we can learn from the way he walked. For while his terrible death loomed ahead, our Savior chose to live with specificity. With each day given he worshiped and served his Father. In his younger years, this meant growing physically, mentally, and spiritually (Luke 2:52). Sometimes he served by resting when he was tired and eating when he was hungry. Sometimes he obeyed by teaching and healing. Jesus never panicked or raced ahead with haste (John 7:6). Instead, he followed the Father’s direction, waited for the appointed time, and then ministered patiently, faithfully, and consistently. 

Our call is no different. Peter emphasizes this best in his second letter. After talking about the difficulty and sorrow of the Day of the Lord, he delivers to his brothers and sisters their marching orders. “Therefore, beloved, since you are waiting for these, be diligent to be found by him without spot or blemish, and at peace” (2 Pet. 3:14). A few sentences later, he summarizes the mission, telling them to “grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ” (2 Pet. 3:18). That’s our calling in circumstances that feel insurmountable. We need not fret or panic. Instead, we mimic Jesus by quietly obeying God’s call. We grow in knowledge of who he is day after day and grow in dependence upon the grace we need.

Sometimes this will look like resting when we’re tired or when we feel overwhelmed with the never-ending news cycle. It will look like eating the nourishment of the Word of God and showing up on Sunday morning for worship. Other times it will look like bringing the new family in our church a meal or inviting our neighbor over to play frisbee in the backyard. It might look like programming a code at the office or spending another day teaching sixth graders grammar. 

When our world feels like it’s falling apart, these actions may feel meaningless, but Jesus has already modeled how vital they are. This is the good work the Lord has given us. They are the avenues in which we grow in the grace of God and walk in the way of the righteous. Day by day, we follow our Savior, and we worship, serve, and testify to his grace wherever he has placed us. 

Not Alone

We don’t walk this road alone. Not only do we have a blueprint, but our Savior has promised to walk beside us the entire way. Before Christ’s death, he told his disciples he would send them a helper. “When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth” (John 16:13a). This same Spirit helps us in our own pilgrimage towards death. He convicts us, encourages us, and guides us to the truth of God’s Word. And in our deepest heartache, the Holy Spirit will intercede on our behalf, giving words to the anxious thoughts of our soul (Rom. 8:26). 

As much as we crave the day we will unite with our Savior, our flesh still fears what we don’t know. The uncertainty of our sin-cursed world and the destruction that might lie ahead aren’t new fears for our day and age. Every saint throughout history has felt the same in one form of the other. We all walk the same road, yet we can take heart because this well-worn path also held the feet of our Savior. He knew it. He lived it. He showed us how to walk through it. And he will walk beside us every step of the way.