Faith That Rejoices – Habakkuk 3:17-19

“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,
yet I will rejoice in the Lord;
I will take joy in the God of my salvation.
God, the Lord, is my strength;
he makes my feet like the deer’s;
he makes me tread on my high places.”
— Habakkuk 3:17–19 (ESV)

When all is stripped away, when the blessings dry up, and when the promises feel silent, will we still rejoice in the Lord?

I lead a small-group of guys on summer staff here at camp. Every year I make it a priority to go over this passage because of how valuable it is for believers to wrestle with these questions. 

Do we trust in safe flights, quick hospital visits, and other visible blessings, or in God Himself? This kind of faith does not deny hardship, but it declares joy in the midst of it! In a world obsessed with success and comfort, this passage teaches believers how to live with defiant hope and God-centered endurance, especially when circumstances offer no earthly encouragement.

Singing in the Hurricane

Habakkuk’s context was grim. His nation was facing judgment. Evil people seemed to prosper. The Babylonians, an evil empire, were rising. Habakkuk wrestled with God in the honesty of his emotions: “Why do You tolerate wrong? Why are You silent when the wicked swallow up the righteous?” (Habakkuk 1:13). God’s answer was not immediate deliverance but a call to deeper faith: “The righteous shall live by his faith” (Habakkuk 2:4).

By the time we reach chapter 3, Habakkuk is no longer questioning. He is worshiping.

But notice the circumstances have not changed. The fig tree still does not blossom. The vines remain barren. The livestock are gone. The harvest has failed. In his society, this was catastrophic. It’s equivalent to losing your income, home, health, and future security all at once, “yet I will rejoice in the Lord.”

This is the kind of praise that costs something. It is the sacrifice of a broken heart bowed low in worship. It is what Job expressed when he said, “Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him” (Job 13:15). And I believe it is the kind of faith that glorifies God most.

Joy That Doesn’t Depend on Outcomes

One of my favorite Christian authors, Oswald Chambers wrote,

“God does not give us overcoming life, He gives us life as we overcome.” – Oswald Chambers

This is the mysterious process by which God shapes His people, not by removing the valley, but by walking with us through it. Suffering is not God’s accident; it is His chosen tool for sanctification.

Chambers also said, “Sorrow burns up a great amount of shallowness.” And isn’t that true? When we suffer, when the fig trees of our lives stop blooming, and our empty comforts are exposed we discover that faith based only on blessings is a fragile thing. But when we cling to God for who He is, not for what He gives, we begin to experience deeper communion with Him. God becomes the reward.

In verse 18, Habakkuk says, “I will take joy in the God of my salvation.” Not in the harvest. Not in the answered prayer. Not in the restored circumstances. In God Himself.

Also as Chambers observed, “We must get hold of the great souls, the men who have been hard hit and have gone to the basis of things, and whose experiences have been preserved for us by God.” We can learn from the men and women who have gone before us in the faith and learned these hard lessons already. 

This is part of why I love talking with older believers. Anyone who has spent a lifetime following God knows this reality deep in their bones. You do not live a long life as a Christian without experiencing loss and suffering. Yet it is encouraging and convicting to listen to someone who has been following the Lord for decades describe the depth of their relationship with God, in spite of the many ups and downs of life.

Habakkuk continues: “God, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer’s; he makes me tread on my high places” (v. 19).

This is not fluff, it is a picture of spiritual agility and strength. Like the mountain deer that live around our home here in Andrews, God enables His people to navigate the jagged terrain of suffering with steady faith. Not because we are strong, but because He is.

When our resources are gone, when we’re too weak to go on, God becomes our strength. And that is a greater gift than any change of circumstance. Faith forged in fire is not easily shaken. 

For the Believer in the Valley

If you’re in a season where your “fig tree” is barren, where you see no fruit, no breakthrough, no end in sight, this passage is for you. The message is not “cheer up,” but “press in.” Don’t wait for circumstances to change before you rejoice. Rejoice in the God who never changes.

Faith that rejoices only when the barn is full is not faith at all, it’s sight. Any atheist can sing with joy in good times. But the faith that sings when the barn is empty is glorious. It declares to the world that God is enough.

So cry if you must. Be honest with your pain. But like Habakkuk, lift your eyes. There is a strength available that is not your own. There is a joy available that does not rise and fall with your bank account, your health, or your news feed.

God is your salvation. God is your strength. And He will make you stand on high places, even (or perhaps especially) when everything below crumbles.

Prayer

Lord, I confess that I often rejoice only when life goes my way. But You are worthy of praise in every season. Teach me to say with Habakkuk, “Yet I will rejoice in the Lord.” Be my strength when I am weak. Be my song in the silence. Let suffering burn away my shallowness, so that Christ is formed more fully in me. Let my joy be rooted not in outcomes, but in Your unchanging character. In Jesus’ name, Amen.