Already

A friend told me a wonderful phrase on Monday. I had just finished a very open-ended question about why my children go through such intense and sad things; I was wondering how such unfairness and ugliness and meanness could happen to kids all while Jesus is supposed to be reigning in heaven right now. I know it's a bold question to ask, and one that I have no right to bring to the feet of someone in charge of the universe, and yet here I am and that's what I ask: How could you? Why does this happen to kids? Why can't I help them? Why are some things so difficult, evil, and sad?!?

That's when she said the phrase. She said, "Well, you know, it's kind of like that old saying that God is "Already But Not Yet." She asked if I had heard it before, and I had not. Already But Not Yet means that God is already working in this world, his goodness and providence is already hard at work holding it all together and sustaining its every moment, but that ultimate good that will one day descend just is not here yet. So we live in the middle. We live after already, but wait as we say "but not yet." It's not perfect yet. It's not complete.
I laughed and said that I think her phrase helps describe, more than any other word or expression I can possibly fathom, how I deeply, truly, and completely feel on most every common day.

Already. I feel God so much in the already. I am in awe at how he has directed my life and guided my footsteps. I am blown away by the blessings He brings into my life, both in my lifelong friends and new acquaintances along the way. It is hard to really believe that God has made a human being so wonderful as Brian Whartnaby, and that this wonderful person has decided to see and bring out wonderful things in me too. God is already working in my life, sustaining its every moment. I already see God in my kids' smiles and their small victories on a math worksheet. I already see God in my family and heritage of faith. I already see God in this crazy world where the human spirit triumphs over immense darkness over and over and over and over again.

But.

But not yet. I don't feel as close to God like I thought I would, not yet at least, through this intense two years of employment. The streets are not yet safe for kids to play. I do not yet see or feel harmony between races, churches, friendships, and relationships all around me. Our world is not yet joyful or kind or compassionate. I do not yet feel like a joyful, kind, compassionate person myself from time to time. I do not yet feel like I'm a good teacher, continually getting knocked down by one aspect of this crazy job after another. There is, in fact, an immense darkness in our world, cities, neighborhoods, and streets that has not yet been eradicated from our presence. We live it and breathe it, but it has not yet been sent away.

I told my friend that sometimes I feel the but not yet so, so, so deeply. I am disturbed by the but not yet in our world and sometimes even cry over the but not yet in my own life. I must be much too sensitive, I think, because the but not yet occupies my dreams, thoughts, and heart. I told her that it's rough to live here in the middle, to live here in the tension, of where Already meets But Not Yet.

I suppose, though, that most of our life is lived in the tension. The place between. The space in the middle.

We plod forward through every day, leaving those but not yet things in our wake, a mess of sadness and darkness and destruction, just keeping our eyes on the already, on what we know to be true, on the good news that God Reigns and holds us together and will see his work through to completion. We move forward, looking to the first word, Already, to take over the clause completely. We work and live and hope for the already day to come. Where we can say that the darkness has already been evicted and our sickness has already been cured. So here we are.

Let's keep going, because God is here. He is Already.