You are like grass—and that’s good news
“The grass withers and the flowers fade, but the word of our God stands forever.” — Isaiah 40:8
‘How great then is the hope of the grass, since the Word has been made flesh? That which abides for evermore, has not disdained to assume grass, that the grass might not despair of itself.’ — Augustine of Hippo
Where do you go when you’re in need of comfort?
What do you turn to in those moments when life just feels overwhelming and confusing?
If you’re anything like me, comfort can often look like distraction.
Doom-scrolling on social media. Binge-watching Netflix. Playing video games. Anything to escape, even just for a moment, the discomfort and disappointment that so often comes with living in a broken a world.
The way of distraction—the way of escape—can feel oh-so-appealing. So many times in my life, I’ve looked to distraction to save me from my discomfort—to avoid facing up to the monsters looming over my life.
The problem is, distraction-as-comfort offers no real comfort at all.
After you (finally) close Instagram, finish that series of Clarkson’s Farm, or come back from that run, the monsters are still waiting there—the difficult conversation, the unwanted diagnosis, the unpaid bill, the global crisis.
Distraction can’t ever give us the true comfort we’re looking for. We need a better, more robust source of comfort and peace.
God’s Word provides it—in a way that might seem surprising at first.
“Comfort, comfort”
If you’re familiar with Isaiah, you’ll know that the book contains two major movements.
Chapters 1–39 focus on the consequences of Israel’s rebellion against God—emphasising God’s justice and righteous judgement, culminating in exile at the hands of Assyria and later Babylon.
The book’s second movement—chapters 40–66—proclaims a message of hope and redemption. God will raise up a servant to deliver His people. The time of exile will come to an end, and the Temple and the nation will be restored.
The book’s pivot point, chapter 40, begins with the words, “Comfort, comfort my people.”
What is the message of comfort that God is about to speak through His messenger, Isaiah?
"Speak tenderly to Jerusalem.
Tell her that her sad days are gone
and her sins are pardoned.
Yes, the Lord has punished her twice over
for all her sins.” — Isaiah 40:2
The message of ‘comfort’, in a nutshell, is the gospel: justice has been satisfied; the people’s sin has been pardoned; the time for punishment is over; God will save and restore His people; redemption is coming.
This is the ultimate source of our comfort—the reality beneath, above, and before all things. It’s this reality we cling to when the monsters loom in our life and the darkness feels overwhelming.
In Jesus, God is victorious over the sin and suffering in our lives and in the world around us. The Light has overcome the darkness. Life wins over death.
Isaiah’s message to the people of Israel points us to the source of our comfort and hope, even when we feel like God has abandoned us in exile.
Even if we don’t see it right now, He will one day come to redeem and restore all things. The sadness will pass away. Joy comes with the morning (Psalm 30:5).
But Isaiah 40 continues the message of God’s comfort in an unexpected direction.
I want to focus on a prophetic image in this chapter that, at first, seems like a strange way to comfort a people in exile—but that ultimately provides hope and perspective when we face discomfort and disappointment.
Confronting what we are
A voice said, “Shout!”
I asked, “What should I shout?”
“Shout that people are like the grass.
Their beauty fades as quickly
as the flowers in a field.
The grass withers and the flowers fade
beneath the breath of the Lord.
And so it is with people.
The grass withers and the flowers fade,
but the word of our God stands forever.”
— Isaiah 40:6–8
The people of Israel had lost their home and sense of national identity (the land), their access to God’s presence (the Temple), and their political and spiritual leader (the king).
You might think that Isaiah’s message would offer some condolences and words of encouragement.
Indeed, chapters 40–66 are full of encouragement. But here, at the beginning of his message of ‘comfort,’ God tells Isaiah to “Shout that people are like the grass. Their beauty fades as quickly as the flowers in a field” (Isaiah 40:6).
It seems a bit insensitive, doesn’t it? Talk about heaping hot coals on an already desperate situation.
But the truth that our lives are like grass—like a flower that wilts and fades—is meant to give Isaiah’s hearers (and us) hope.
‘Comfort’ doesn’t come from escaping or distracting ourselves from whatever is causing us discomfort.
True comfort comes when we confront the reality of who we are—fragile, vulnerable, weak—and rest in the reality of who God is—eternal, powerful, sovereign.
Like a flower, our earthly bodies are fleeting and fragile. In this life, we will face suffering and sickness—and we will one day die.
For those who haven’t put their trust in Jesus, this is a terrifying reality. But for those who are in Him—who have put their trust in His eternal Word—this truth is utterly liberating.
Why?
Because we know how the story ends. Jesus took on our fragile, fading human flesh. Augustine, in the quote that opened this email, speaks of how Christ took on our grass-like existence, ‘that the grass might not despair of itself.’
On the cross, He bore the weight of God’s righteous wrath against sin, so that we would not be consumed by it.
He took the punishment for our sinful rebellion—the cause of Israel’s exile then and our separation from God now—so that we could be reconciled to the Father.
Three days later, He rose again in the power of the Spirit, victorious over sin and death forever.
Those who are in Jesus no longer need to dread death, because we will share in His resurrection life. There is a short now, followed by a glorious, unending then—an eternity of joy, peace and satisfaction in our Father’s presence.
This is our assurance: “I give them eternal life,” says Jesus, “and they will never perish. No one can snatch them away from me, for my Father has given them to me, and he is more powerful than anyone else” (John 10:28–29).
The perspective that brings peace
Confronting the fragility of our grass-like human existence and resting in the reality of the gospel gives us perspective on our lives—and with it, peace.
Of course, this perspective doesn’t diminish the reality of the monsters in our life right now—the suffering, sickness and disappointment that we all experience.
But it gives us courage and hope to face them head-on. Holding lightly to our grass-like lives—and holding onto the hope of eternity—we laugh and rejoice in the face of suffering, because we know how the story ends.
The monsters that haunt us will be defeated. Suffering and death do not have the final say. Jesus wins—and all who are in Him will share in His eternal, resurrection life.
It might not happen in this short life here, but all your suffering and pain and disappointment will one day be swallowed up by His victory. You will rise with Him in victory. You will dwell with Him in eternity—in a new creation free of pain and tears and death (Revelation 21).
If, today, you are hurting, disappointed, or feel forgotten by God—take comfort in this truth. Don’t run away from the reality of your weakness and vulnerability, but let it lead you to Christ, who is the only true source of your comfort.
As we lift our eyes to Him, we find perspective on our present struggles. His gospel gives us courage to face today, and hope for what comes tomorrow. He alone gives us the peace we’re really looking for.
Turn to Him today. Lay your troubles before Him. Cling to the hope of eternity.
“Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.” — John 16:33
With love,
Mike