Here’s the Promise: Goodness Will Chase You Down

An honest message at the top: I’ve gone back and forth on publishing this today. It went live at (in)courage last week while I was in Florida with family and was already set to publish here today/on social next week.

The words below, I wrote them for you and also for me. I need them, here, six months into a year that has held half a dozen private heartbreaks. “Crushed but not destroyed” has taken on a new meaning (2 Corinthians 4), “the waves just keep on coming” has been said (by me and a few close friends) more times than we can count, and the promise of Hope below is far from a nice thought, a quick fix, a band-aid or a cliche. It’s been an anchor in the waves, a truth to hold onto that doesn’t shake.

I hesitate because in the last 24 hours, a dear friend very suddenly lost her husband. I won’t share any more than that, except to acknowledge sometimes it seems so. much. more. like we’re actually being chased by fear, by loss, by grief, by destruction. Sometimes the ‘surprise!’ is anything but good. Sometimes we look around and don’t see how Psalm 23:6 or Joshua 23:14 could possibly be true. But I know that I know that I know that what is true in the light is still true in the dark, and God does not change in shifting shadows (James 1, the passage our small group discussed in depth just two days ago). And so with a heavy heart, I’m adding this at the top and hitting publish, believing God knew the timing and trusting that somehow and some way, goodness does get the last word. We don’t see it today, but His Word always proves true. The promise will hold. If you or those you love are in a storm today, I pray that this will be a pinprick of light or comfort. Kyrie eleison, Lord. Radaph with your goodness and mercy.

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If you prefer audio, this article is also available as a podcast episode.

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Keep a straight face, I thought to myself.

Everything was already in place. The date was marked on a dozen calendars. The cards were signed, the gifts wrapped, the decorations purchased—everything was ready for her celebration.

Then, just a handful of days before the surprise, I listened as she spoke words of frustration and loneliness. I could see the weariness in her eyes, hear it in her strained voice, and I blinked back tears at her pain even as I bit my tongue.

The words threatened to burst bright like fireworks against the night, clamoring around inside, longing to be spoken and offered as a gift of hope.

“Oh friend, if you only knew,” I wanted to say. “Something so very good is just around the corner. It won’t be long until you see that the very thing you’re worried about has already been taken care of. The fear that’s rising will soon be stilled. You are dearly loved, valued, and seen. Hang on just a few more days, friend. Goodness is already on the way.”

Days later, the full room buzzed with excitement, smiles spread wide across faces, and then, for just a moment, everything stilled. All was quiet until suddenly one unanimous word broke the silence: “Surprise!!!”

There were hugs and squeals, party hats and pictures, and once again I found myself blinking back tears at the look in her eyes. This time, though, they threatened to spill with joy.

As the days have gone by, I’ve found myself returning to one thought that played on a loop between the conversation and the celebration:

This must be the tiniest glimpse of how Jesus feels all the time.

He’s the Beginning and the End, the One who knows what’s on every single page of the story, and I can’t help but wonder if He occasionally claps His nail-scarred hands in joyful anticipation, smiling as He says, “Oh daughter, if you only knew.”

There are things I’ve longed for, and prayed for, for over a decade now. I can only imagine what it would be like to voice my frustration or heartache and hear, “Just hold on three more days.” Truthfully, I’d love a countdown clock, a heavenly calendar declaring when the seemingly impossible will come to be and the waiting will turn to celebrating.

For now, I’m learning to rest in knowing that He knows what I don’t. I’m learning to trust that goodness is always here and also always on the way. I’m learning to believe that it won’t be long before I see that I’ve been seen all along, and the very things I’m burdened by today were taken care of long ago. For now, I’m remembering a tiny glimpse and an old promise.

Psalm 23:6 says that goodness and mercy will follow us every single day. The Hebrew word used for follow, radaph, means to pursue or to chase. Far from a casual stroll, this is an all-out sprint, a guarantee that every day, on every single page of the story, goodness is pounding the pavement, coming for us over and over again. We may not see it yet. It might look like fear is following behind, it might feel like worry is weighing down, or seem like pain or sadness will get the last word . . . but the countdown is on. The party hats have been purchased. The celebration is certain.

We may not know the timeline, but we do know that the One who holds time is faithful to keep His Word.

As Joshua 23:14 says, “Know this with all your heart, with everything in you, that not one detail has failed of all the good things God, your God, promised you. It has all happened. Nothing’s left undone—not so much as a word.”

Jesus hears every cry and sees every tear. He doesn't miss a thing, listening to our frustrations and worries with patience and kindness. He welcomes every word, day after day and year after year. He knows exactly how long it's been, how weary we are, and He draws nearer still. But perhaps if we look closely, we'll see a small smile tugging at His lips or a twinkle in His eye as He wipes the tears from our own. Maybe, when all is quiet, we'll hear a gentle but joyful whispered promise:

Daughter, something so very good is just around the corner. It won’t be long until you see that the very thing you’re worried about has already been taken care of. The fear that’s rising will soon be stilled. You are dearly loved, valued, and seen. Hang on just a little bit longer. Goodness is already on the way.

If you’re currently walking through a middle place, desperate to see God’s goodness in the chapters you wouldn’t have necessarily chosen, Even If Not: Living, Loving, and Learning in the in Between will help you shift from the suspicion that God isn’t kind or present to the truth found in Scripture: on every single page of the story, He is with us and working all things for good. We have not been forgotten or overlooked. There is beauty, even here, but friend—this is not where the story ends.