Is It for Nothing? What to Do When Purity Feels Like a Losing Bet

 

Is it for nothing, then, that I have kept myself pure? Psalm 73:13

You've kept yourself. You've obeyed the Lord. You never went against morality. At a point, your consecration became irritating to the perverted, who kept snuggling their noses behind you, always calling you the goody two shoes. But here you are, like dry and thirsty land, while they blossom like watered ground. It's as if their bad ways keep them flourishing. And you can't stop asking, "Well, is it in vain that I've kept myself pure?"

Reading through the book of Psalms in June, I came across this verse, and it went straight to my heart. You know that feeling when something exposes you, when you see yourself in it without any filter, and it captures exactly what you're going through. This verse made me relate so deeply. I felt the pain Asaph carried while writing that chapter.

I can imagine how weary he'd grown from waiting on God, only to watch his enemies, people with crooked ways, get their answers handed to them. Wouldn't you think he was foolish for waiting so long on God when he could have simply schemed his way through? It's worth pondering.

For myself, I'd rebuke Asaph for comparing himself with his enemies, those on whom the Lord is ready to breathe hailstorms. They aren't worth his attention, honestly. But I won't lie, in that moment, you'd think otherwise too, watching a saint suffer while infidels "prosper."

Let me break it down. In our daily lives: you're a young woman, and life hasn't been fair, but you're trusting God anyway. Against all odds, you kept your marriage bed undefiled and followed God's instructions wholeheartedly. Glory to God, you had expected to carry your pregnancy within the first three months of marriage. But here you are, in your sixth year of waiting on the Lord, watching your old university roommate pop out kids and celebrate one christening after another. Yes, that same roommate who was so promiscuous she aborted five pregnancies for different men while on campus. And that thought keeps circling in your mind: "Is it for nothing, then, that I have kept myself pure?" But do you really believe it's in vain that you chose to trust in Him rather than in chariots? What exactly are you comparing?

Or remember when the exam got so tough your mind went blank. Coursemates were murmuring, short notes were being passed around, and even your so called loved ones couldn't resist offering you a hand. But you said no, and you sat there, unshaken. You didn't engage in the malpractice. Just like Daniel, you refused to defile yourself, willing to perish if it came to that. Then your results came out, and you couldn't believe the Lord had left you stranded, as they say. The boy who always sat at the back told you that you'd been betrayed. Those who cheated landed softly, while you were left on an island with an extra year. Maybe your Lord had betrayed you, you thought. But does God really snitch on His own? None that I know. And in that moment, you asked again: "Is it for nothing, then, that I have kept myself pure?"

As a missionary, you heard the call just like Abraham. You were called every alphabetical name in the book because you yielded to the Lord, leaving behind a comfortable life for an unknown land, stepping onto the field for Jesus. But right there, you realized there was no job to sustain your family, that rent only came after days of pleading, and even now your landlord isn't cordial. Your children are out of school. Side investments haven't come through. This is the story of a man who obeyed the Lord, so much to be called a father of faith, yet mocked in every way. Then you saw one of your friends, one who had rebelled, flaunting the documentation of his wealth, and how good life had been to him. And spontaneously, just like Asaph, you thought: "Is it for nothing, then, that I have kept myself pure?"

Do you remember watching your parents serve God with everything they had? The days they gave up food so you could eat? Yet you watched your father get diagnosed with lung cancer, a man who never once touched alcohol or tasted a pipe in his life. It looked as though the righteous experienced the exact opposite of what had been promised them. You prayed. You fasted. Still, you watched your dad slip away into the cold hands of death. Your once vibrant father grew frail until he was buried in the grave. Your faith was tested, and you thought maybe he'd waited in vain and kept himself for nothing.

Check yourself out as a not so fresh graduate, still holding on to the Lord for job opportunities. You've attended interviews, written assessments; interviewers are now familiar with your name on their forms. Yet you're still stuck. The available options seem to be: grease the hands of management, lie about your age to take shortcuts, or stay unemployed for the rest of your life, as they say. The skills you learned don't seem to yield anything. With no income, your daily survival depends on your parents, like a sweet parasite. And while you try to brace yourself with the Father's promises, you look out and see your neighbor's son with his car parked outside the house. The same boy you seniored for seven years, whose diapers you once helped drag along as a toddler. Now "flourishing" in a business that wouldn't survive an EFCC audit. Yet you feel your breakthrough is delayed, and maybe you've just been waiting on God in vain. That's exactly how the thought starts creeping in: "Is it for nothing, then, that I have kept myself pure?"

So many scenarios fit perfectly into that sentence Asaph spoke. But whatever you're experiencing, it doesn't make it your reality, nor does it make your feelings the truth. God doesn't operate on impulse. He works with His word intact. His promises are true and eternal. David said, "The promises of the Lord can be trusted; they are as genuine as silver refined seven times in the furnace." God is a God of order, precept upon precept. Your sorrow doesn't cancel out His plan for you. He will do exactly as He's said. But it will be a disappointment to those we compare God's goodness with, those whose judgment awaits them if they refuse repentance. God's patience with them is only unto salvation.

On second thought, those whose riches will melt away like wax are what you're comparing your inheritance in Christ Jesus with. There's no comparison at all.

Psalm 37:7 reminds us of God's assurance: "Be patient and wait for the Lord to act; don't be worried about those who prosper or those who succeed in their evil plans." Shouldn't this be enough for us to rejoice in as believers while we wait on Him earnestly? Never think it's for nothing that you've held on to Him. You're not waiting in vain. You've never served in vain. He rewards those who diligently seek Him. You've not obeyed in vain. You'll reap bountifully. God's promises can't be equated with what the world gives. What the Lord gives is everlasting, far beyond all your expectations.