We See Jesus
Life Lessons Learned
Some days, the ache of what hasn’t yet come can feel heavier than the hope of what is promised. Maybe you’ve been there too. You pray for healing, but the sickness lingers. You long for justice, but the world stays cruel. You yearn for peace, but conflict finds you again. There’s so much that feels unfinished, unresolved, and unrealized. As Hebrews 2:8-9 reminds us: “We see not yet… But we see Jesus.”
That phrase—“we see not yet”—captures our earthly reality. The kingdom is coming, but it hasn’t yet fully come. We still live in the tension between the promises of God and the pain of life. Sorrow removed? Not yet. Sickness vanquished? Not yet. Satan bound? Not yet. Death destroyed? Not yet. But here’s the pivot: But we see Jesus.
That one line changes everything. When the ‘Not Yets’ start piling up, we need to look again—not at the sorrow, but at the Savior.
The article that inspired this reflection is one I keep coming back to. It gently reminds me of how easily we count up the negatives. The Psalmist certainly did—listing adversaries, sickness, betrayal. But in Psalm 41:10, he turns a corner: “But Thou, O Lord…” That’s the secret. Turning from what we see to the One we can trust.
Jeremiah pours out his grief in Lamentations, giving voice to loss and suffering. But even he doesn’t end there. He confesses the eternal truth: “Thou, O Lord, remainest” (Lam. 5:19). And Micah, standing knee-deep in national collapse and moral decay, still lifts his eyes and declares, “Therefore I will look unto the Lord” (Micah 7:7).
I think of Habakkuk, too. His world was falling apart. There were no figs, no grapes, no cattle—nothing. Yet he writes: “Although… yet will I rejoice in the Lord” (Hab. 3:17–18). That kind of faith isn’t blind; it sees clearly. It sees Jesus in the middle of the mess.
We often act as though seeing Jesus depends on circumstances clearing up. But it’s the opposite. We are invited to see Jesus while the circumstances remain cloudy. He is the light that shines in our darkness. Not after—but during.
That’s what the writer of Hebrews is telling us. The world is not yet restored. But we already know the One who is crowned with glory and honor. The One who tasted death for us. The One who now reigns. We see Jesus—not with physical eyes, perhaps, but with spiritual clarity. We see His mercy in our moments of need. We feel His comfort in our grief. We remember His sacrifice in our communion. We experience His presence in prayer.
There are seasons in life when all you seem to see is what’s missing. The healing that hasn’t come. The relationship that hasn’t mended. The breakthrough that’s still out of reach. I’ve had those seasons, too. But I’ve also learned that focusing on the absence leads only to despair. It’s in those moments that we must say with the saints of old: “Yet, I will look to the Lord.”
Here’s the insight I hold to now: The most significant breakthroughs in my spiritual life didn’t come when everything was resolved, but when I chose to trust Jesus in the middle of the unresolved. When I looked at my long list of Not Yets and said, “Still—I see You, Lord.”
There’s a line in the old hymn that echoes this truth beautifully: “Turn your eyes upon Jesus, look full in His wonderful face; and the things of earth will grow strangely dim, in the light of His glory and grace.” That’s more than poetic—it’s deeply practical. It’s how we make it through the valley.
Let me ask: What are your current ‘Not Yets’? Name them. Acknowledge them. Don’t pretend they’re not real. But then do what Scripture models again and again—turn the focus. But we see Jesus.
Isaiah 26:3 tells us, “You will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You.” That peace doesn’t come from the absence of trouble; it comes from the presence of Christ.
When we see Jesus, we are reminded that He was made a little lower than the angels—He suffered, too. He knows the ache of ‘Not Yet.’ He wept at Lazarus’s tomb. He grieved over Jerusalem. He sweat drops of blood in Gethsemane. But through it all, He looked to the joy set before Him. And now, He reigns in glory.
And so will we. One day, the Not Yets will turn to Now Realized. Sorrow will be gone. Sickness will be healed. Satan will be chained. Death will be defeated forever. That day is coming. But until then—we see Jesus.
I’ve found that when I center my day on that truth, everything shifts. My prayers are no longer just lists of requests—they become moments of communion. My Bible reading is no longer just study—it’s conversation. My burdens aren’t lighter, but they are no longer mine alone to carry.
So, friend, as you walk through your own waiting, remember this life lesson: The world may be full of what we see not yet—but it is also full of Christ, if we’re willing to look.
Blessing:
Thank you for taking time to reflect with me today. May your eyes be lifted from the weight of what’s missing to the glory of the One who is always present. May Jesus be your steady gaze, your constant comfort, and your guiding light. And may your ‘Not Yets’ one day become testimonies of His faithfulness.
Recommended Resource:
For further encouragement on finding hope in Christ during uncertain times, visit: https://www.challies.com/
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