Scripture: Isaiah 25:7-8: "And he will swallow up on this mountain the covering that is cast over all peoples, the veil that is spread over all nations.8 He will swallow up death forever; and the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces, and the reproach of his people he will take away from all the earth, for the Lord has spoken."
And what is the hardest, darkest, most doubt‑producing reality we face? Death. Death is the deepest shadow the cross ever cast. Death is the place where faith feels most fragile. Death is the moment when doubt screams the loudest. Here in day 17, you will see that “Death is not the end. God will swallow it forever.” That is the foundation of all faithfulness. Please know that if God can defeat death, He can sustain you in anything.
Isaiah describes a “covering” and a “veil” that lies over all people. What is it? It is the shroud of death. Death, the suffocating blanket of grief, fear, and sorrow that hangs over humanity because of the curse. It is the fog that blinds us, the heaviness that presses on our chest, the ache that makes the world feel colorless and cold.
Some of you know exactly what that feels like. Grief can feel like a weight you cannot lift, or like a fog you cannot see through, or like a darkness that refuses to break. This is the very kind of covering and veil that God is going to lift. That God is going to step into and defeat. The very covering that God is going to swallow up. The book of Isaiah points us forward to a time when the Lord will do this. He breaks into this victory at the cross and demonstrates it in the resurrection. And now, God is continuing to remove the covering and veil that has plagued the world for centuries. You may not yet be seeing it in your grief. You may still be in the fog of things wondering how long it’s going to take and when you’re going to be able to get out of it.
Verse eight tells us that He will swallow up death and defeat it forever. Death has been reigning and stealing ever since the fall, and we can wonder how long it will continue. But now we have the promise that death will be swallowed up forever. Forever. Never again will you ever have to worry about death rearing its ugly head. Never again will you have to worry about having a conversation with someone and not knowing how long you’ll see them. Never again will you experience the pain of someone you love being ripped out of your life. And never again will you face the uncertainty that comes when thinking about your last breath and what happens next. Death is swallowed up forever because the king of life is reigning. We were created to live, not created to die.
Some of you live with the fear of losing someone. Some of you already have. Some of you fear your own frailty. Isaiah is saying: that fear has an expiration date. Death will not get the last word over your story.
Then the Lord himself wipes away tears from all faces. God’s permanent presence means that all sorrows will come to an end. In this life are many goodbyes. In this life are many last times. Unless the Lord returns first, all of us will experience these goodbyes and last times. There will be a last time we kiss our loved ones. A last time we walk through these doors. A last time we talk with friends. The older we get, more final goodbye’s we say.
The arrival of the new heaven and earth means there will be no more of these goodbyes for you. You won’t have any final goodbyes. But there is a goodbye you can say. Goodbye tears. Goodbye pain. Goodbye death. Goodbye sin. Goodbye heartbreak. Goodbye trauma. Goodbye trouble. Why? Because God, who is now dwelling with us, will remove the source of all sorrows and pain.
Imagine the King of the universe — the One who spoke galaxies into existence — reaching out His hand to touch your tear‑stained face. Not tossing you a tissue. Not telling you to “toughen up.” But gently wiping away every tear you’ve ever cried.
Nothing in this life can erase your tears. You can stop crying, but you cannot undo the pain. But God can. And He will. He is not overwhelmed by your grief. He is not tired of your sorrow. He is not impatient with your healing. He is keeping count — and one day He will take it all away.
There will be no more death in the new creation. That’s because all sin and evil have been banished to hell. What a world that will be where we will never have to experience the trouble that comes from sin in our lives again. You will never have to lose a loved one. You will never have to grow old and have bodily problems.
We will finally be the people God intended us to be, with no more wanting. No more wanting to be free of regret. No more wanting a safe, peaceful, and comfortable life with complete satisfaction and happiness. We will finally have it.
Every longing you’ve ever had for safety, for wholeness, for joy that doesn’t fade—those longings are not foolish. They’re echoes of the world God is bringing. A world where nothing good is ever lost and nothing broken ever returns.
But waiting is one of the hardest parts of grief. It feels like the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter Sunday — dark, silent, uncertain. This waiting is not like waiting for a doctor’s appointment. It is waiting with tears, waiting with questions, waiting with a heart that feels like it might break. But impatience can be a sign of faith. See, we long for God because we know only He can give what we need.
Some of you have been waiting a long time — for healing, for clarity, for reconciliation, for relief. Isaiah is not telling you to pretend the wait is easy. He is telling you the wait is not wasted.
And now we see His salvation. Remember that we have been talking about trusting God, and the big test is coming up. The thing to be concerned about is blowing another chance to trust the Lord instead placing trust in things that will fail. God can be trusted when nothing else can be. Why trust the nations? They will only turn on you, and they too will fail you. So why do that? Why not place your trust wholeheartedly in the Lord?
I think we need this reminder time and time again to wait on God and have a confidence that He will save us. But there is no need to step away from Him and look to anything else for salvation. So let us be glad and rejoice in His salvation. Salvation is worth the weight. Don’t ever let Satan tell you it’s not. You may think you’ve been waiting a long time for the Lord to change and transform you and work within you, a long time to see the fullness of His promises, but this wait is going to be worth it.
Resurrection hope means your story does not end where it hurts. Some of you feel like your story has stalled in disappointment. For you, is that a marriage that didn’t heal, a child who wandered, a diagnosis that you weren’t hoping for? But because Christ is risen, God writes beyond the last page you can see. When life feels over, you can remind your own heart, “God writes beyond the ending I see.” Resurrection hope also means that no faithful act is ever wasted. Isaiah’s audience included people who died in exile, never seeing the restoration they longed for, yet God promised their faithfulness would rise with them. The same is true for you: the prayers you prayed that seemed unanswered, the obedience that cost you something, the tears you shed in secret, listen, none of it is forgotten. The faith you held in the dark will be honored in resurrection light.
Resurrection hope means God will redeem what sin and suffering have broken. Everything twisted by sin, God will straighten. Everything stolen by suffering, God will restore. Everything death has claimed, God will return. You can trust that He will redeem wasted years, restore what was taken unjustly, heal what suffering has damaged, and make whole what feels permanently broken. It also means your grief has an expiration date. Isaiah’s people groaned like a woman in labor with nothing to show for it, but resurrection means no sorrow is final. When grief feels endless, you can remind yourself, “This pain has an end, but God’s joy does not,” and when sorrow feels heavy, remember that God will not only dry your tears but remove the reason for them.
Resurrection hope means you can face death without fear. The grave is not your final home, and because Christ conquered death, you do not have to fear your own death or the death of those in Him. The future is not a threat when the One who holds it is alive. And resurrection hope means you can endure present suffering with courage. What you are facing is not the end of your story. You can persevere because resurrection is coming, and you can keep walking because God will meet you on the other side of the valley. Finally, resurrection hope means God Himself will call your name. Isaiah says the dead will rise and shout for joy—not vaguely, not anonymously, but personally. The same voice that called Lazarus out of the grave will one day call you, and you will rise at the sound of His voice.
Pastor Josh
Where does the “veil” still feel heavy in your life—grief, fear, regret, or uncertainty—and how does the resurrection begin to lift that weight even if your circumstances haven’t changed yet?
Which aspect of resurrection hope speaks most directly to your current season—God redeeming what’s broken, God honoring unseen faithfulness, God ending your grief, or God calling your name—and why does that truth matter right now?
Isaiah calls us to wait for the Lord even when the waiting feels like Saturday between the cross and the empty tomb. What does faithful waiting look like for you today, and how does resurrection hope keep you from giving up?
Choose one area of your life where doubt has been loud—fear of loss, grief that feels endless, regret over wasted years, or anxiety about the future. Write it down. Then write beside it the resurrection truth that confronts it (e.g., “My grief has an expiration date,” “Nothing done in faith is wasted,” “God will redeem what was broken,” “Death will not have the last word”). Pray through that truth this week, asking God to help you see your story through the lens of the empty tomb rather than the weight of the veil.
