Of Hope

This is a bit late coming, but…better late than never…and I need to get it documented, hopefully before 2020.  My one word for the year 2019 is Hope.

I haven’t had the words, or the time, or the motivation to process where the thought of hope came from…or how or why I think that word is for me this year, in fact, it sometimes feels like I may have picked the wrong word…circumstances have not really changed, my prayers–when finally verbalized or written–seem to hit the ceiling, and return empty to me…but yet…hope.  I know I heard it.  I know it’s mine…and by the Bible dictionary definition, I know there is a lesson in the not seeing, and I am determined to apprehend it in some way this year.

To trust in, wait for, look for, or desire something or someone; or to expect something beneficial in the future.

How I long for these benefits!

Redemption
Healing
Peace
Security
Unity

All these things, I hope for, but do not see with my eyes yet….Yet…I know they will come to pass, I know I heard God’s gentle whisper to my heart for mercy, trust, obedience, and now hope.  Even (and especially) in the dark…when the waves crash in on me and I feel as if I’m drowning…I find my anchor and hold on as if for dear life…

Even through the ugly…

Rebellion
Illness and Injury
Turmoil
Fretful anxieties
Broken hearts, homes, and families

I picture the father of the prodigal son when I think of the word hope.  That father who watched and waited for his erring son to return, and saw him coming when he was still a long way off.  THAT is hope.

When that foolish boy was leaving the security of home with everything he owned
While he was squandering his inheritance
when his money ran out, and he was left without means to support himself
when his so-called friends had nothing left to gain from him

the father waited in hope.

when in desperation, his beloved son resorted to dining with the swine
When finally coming to his senses
while he hatched the plan to serve his father
while he traveled the long road home, rehearsing his apology,

his father was there, waiting in hope, watching for his return.

And here I am with that father.  Praying.  Waiting.  Watching.  Ready for hope and faith and trust to mature and materialize into what can be seen…touched…and fully apprehended.  Making myself ready for the coming home party.

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