“Earth has no sorrow that heaven can’t heal.”

“Earth has no sorrow that heaven can’t heal.”

That’s a line from a David Crowder song I heard recently, and it’s been on my mind in the intervening days since. Loss and sorrow have intruded into the lives of all, but they seem especially concentrated in recent months. From loss of income to loss of independence to loss of life to loss of dreams, from temporary setbacks to lifelong disappointments or worse, the stories of heartache and suffering that I personally have heard recently are many. They vary in the details of circumstances, but the theme of suffering runs strong and can feel overwhelming.

These lyrics are a welcome reminder, though, that these current sorrows are not permanent, that these things will not always be so. As we anticipate a new heaven and a new earth through the blood of Christ, there’s the hope – not a fleeting wish for good to come that may or may not come to fruition, but the confident expectation based on the assured Word of the Lord who cannot lie and whose plans cannot be frustrated – that one day there will be wholeness, joy, and gladness where there is now brokenness, pain, and sorrow. One day the captives will be freed, the brokenhearted and those who mourn will be comforted; beauty will be traded for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, garments of praise instead of the spirit of despair. (Isaiah 61) One day, but not now; some place, but not here.

That is not to say that the heavenly healing of sorrows looks exactly like what we’d prefer the earthly remedy to be. Marriage, a family, or a comfortable living may be mourned here, and the absence of those things may be contributing to the sorrow here on earth, but those things are not promised in heaven. What IS promised is the eternal presence of God the Father Almighty Himself. It may seem trite or hollow, but that makes it no less true. The Lord will heal our earthly sorrows with His presence.

A few years ago, I was really wrestling with the issue of theodicy, the question of how a good God allows such terrible evils and suffering to occur. It wasn’t about suffering in the world in general, but about suffering in my life in particular, the consequences of someone else’s sinful actions. The Lord answered me, but not as expected. He never told me why He allows suffering, but He gave me Himself. It sounds crazy, probably about as crazy as healing sorrows with His presence, but there is such an enduring peace and rest that comes with trusting His answer and His promise.

You can find the full song, Come as You Are, here. It sounds like an invitational hymn, but that invitation to lay down our sorrows and pain is for all, both those who are already in Christ and those coming to Him for the first time.