Yet I Will Rejoice in the Lord: A Reflection on Habakkuk

A friend’s recent challenge to “read the books of the Bible you’ve never even heard of before,” led me to the book of Habakkuk.

I’ll repeat. Habakkuk.

At first glance, I assumed there wasn’t much in a book with such an odd name. While I consider myself a relatively well-formed Catholic, I knew nothing about this book nor did any particular passage or verse come to mind. How could this little book be of value to me?

I chose to read Habakkuk anyway, and let me tell you, it has since become one of my most frequently quoted books of the Bible.

Only three chapters long, it took me ‘til the bitter end to discover the message the Lord had for me. But ever since I read these words, they have remained with me.

Though the fig tree do 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 joy in the God of my salvation.
God, the Lord, is my strength;
He makes my feet like hinds’ feet,
He makes me tread upon my high places." (Habakkuk 3:17-19)

In this passage, Habakkuk describes the equivalent of utter ruin in his day and age. Failure, desolation, desperation, and despair. Yet the prophet chooses to rejoice in the Lord.

A Modern-day Translation

In 2026, perhaps this passage would read something like this:

Though we lose our jobs,
And have no place to live,
The ability to provide for our families fails,
And we have no food,
Everything we own be taken away,
And there be nothing to sustain us,
Yet I will rejoice in the Lord.”

Yet I will rejoice in the Lord.

In the face of complete loss. In the face of what makes no sense. In the face of what seems like a lack of the Lord’s providence and goodness. Yet I will rejoice in the Lord.

Where is Our Hope?

Our hope cannot be in something, like our job or our home. Our hope must be in Someone. Because when all else fails us, when we seem to be at the end of our rope, when none of our relentless prayers or desires are met, the Lord is there. He is there to sustain, protect, and guide us. He is there to be our comfort, our joy, our peace.

Only He can provide. Not the harvest, or the fields, or the flocks. Not the family, or the job, or the vocation.

He alone satisfies. He alone is our hope.

A Personal Translation

Praying with these words, I decided to take up Habakkuk’s pen. I wrote my own, personal translation. It was wildly painful and vulnerable, but also incredibly freeing and insightful. It forced me to face my deepest desires and hopes, and put them in right order under Jesus. It forced me to answer the question: Is He truly enough for me? It forced me to name what I want from Him, but not to hold those things against Him as a bargaining chip of my love and service.

Though I do not have more children,
Nor do we ever have a dream house,
The gifts I’ve been given never be used,
And I do not receive the praise and recognition of others,
I do not have the community I crave,
And I never see my prayers answered,
Yet I will rejoice in the Lord,
I will joy in the God of my salvation.”

Yet I will rejoice in the Lord.

Even if all of my worst fears come true and none of what I aspire and dream of does, yet I will rejoice in the Lord.

Desires are good to have. Dreams and hopes are good to have too. But it is not good for them to become idols that take the place of Jesus. It is good to rejoice in the gifts God gives us, but none of those things will be greater than the One Who gives.

If we keep our eyes fixed on Him and hold everything else lightly, all starts to fall into place. If we truly and genuinely rejoice in the Lord, and not only in the gifts that He gives us, amazing things start to happen.

At the end of the day, none of the “things” of this world actually matter. We have all that we need in Him.

“God the Lord is my strength; He makes my feet like hinds’ feet, He makes me tread upon high places” (Habakkuk 3:19).

Gracie Muraski splits her time between Ohio and Colorado with her husband and sons. She is passionate about reading, writing, long-distance running, and intentional conversation.