What Does It Mean to Be Here, Now?
That question lingers beneath every human endeavor, from the scientist’s inquiry to the poet’s sigh. Whether whispered in sorrow or shouted in delight, it is the core ache of the soul: What does it mean to be here? To walk these roads, to bear these burdens, to live in a world both beautiful and broken?
We live, we act, we think — but to what end? And under whose authority? In what story are we participating?
This book, Among the Ruins: Expositions on Being Here, does not claim to give a final answer. Instead, it seeks to walk faithfully through the ache with you, under the light of God’s Word. It is not a quick balm, nor a triumphant anthem. It is an invitation to lament, to wonder, to confess that things are not as they should be — and yet, even here, to lift our eyes toward the One who dwells with His people amid the ruins.
Four Paths Through the Ruins
This journey is shaped into four primary parts, each reflecting a distinct perspective on life in a fractured world:
- Under the Sun — looking around at futility, hevel, and the vapor of existence (Ecclesiastes as companion).
- On a Hard Road — looking down at suffering, injustice, and divine sovereignty (the bleeding feet of the pilgrim).
- Amid Ashes — looking back at exile, the curse of Eden, the dust of mortality, and the distortion of knowledge.
- In the Thick of Thorns — looking forward at entanglement, how exile shapes our hopes, our vision, and the choke of thorns upon our future-building.
Each part contains seven meditative expositions, roughly a thousand words each. At the end, a closing chapter will not tie the threads into a neat conclusion, but will gently turn our faces toward God in trust, even as resolution is withheld until the companion volume, Behold the Way.
Each chapter also carries a rhythm: exposition, a prayer of lament, and a Selah Box with scripture, a reflective question, and a simple practice. The design is deliberate: to engage the mind with truth, the heart with prayer, and the body with action, however small.
The Title: Among the Ruins
We live among ruins. This is not a metaphor only. Our thoughts are fractured, our loves disordered, our systems corrupted, and even our best efforts decay with time. The fall of mankind was not simply the loss of paradise — it was the shattering of our perception of what is true, good, and beautiful.
We now grope for meaning under a sky heavy with futility, our lives marked by sorrow, our steps slowed by thorns. Yet even here — especially here — God speaks. The ruins do not silence His voice. If anything, they make it ring clearer: The world is broken, but it is not abandoned.
The Mode: Exposition with Reverence
These are not academic lectures or abstract monographs. They are theological reflections shaped by Scripture, written with clarity, honesty, and a pastoral eye. They expose not only biblical texts, but also our own hearts in the light of those texts.
There will be doctrine, yes — but doctrine bent toward devotion. There will be clarity, but never without reverence. There will be lament, for lament is faithful speech in exile. At times, the words may shift into prayer; at others, into poetry. This mingling is intentional, for learning and worship should never be strangers.
Being Here — and Being His
The subtitle — Expositions on Being Here — carries a double weight. “Being here” names our condition: finite, fallen, restless, longing for permanence yet surrounded by vapor. But to be truly here is also to be His — to belong to Christ, reconciled through the cross, remade by the Spirit.
This is the deeper aim of the book: not simply to explain life among the ruins, but to awaken hearts to the reality that we are not abandoned in them. We are sought. We are remembered. We are spoken to and sung over by the God who took on flesh and entered our ruins Himself.
So then, we begin. Not with mastery, but with humility. Not with quick resolutions, but with patient lament. Not with perfection, but with the conviction that Christ has come among the ruins, and that He still dwells with His people here.
Let us listen. Let us learn. Let us be here — and let us be His.
Every hard journey is eased by good companions, and your steps alongside mine are a gift to me.
Should you wish, you may contribute some coin to the Pilgrim’s Purse.
