remember how we were talking about the way we start thinking about something, and suddenly that thing is EVERYWHERE?
well, it’s still happening.
God, in His unfathomable goodness (and impeccable sense of humor), keeps bringing little things before me … whether it’s a blog post, a magazine article, a text from a friend, a remark in passing, a weird dream … anything, really. today its been text messages and this article from sara hagerty:
It would have been easier to shut myself off to these mothers or to shut myself off to hope. Either option would provide a reprieve (because how else do you grapple with unmet, God-given desire and a room where you’re kept waiting?).
Everything in me wanted to shove down hope.
Hope cracks us open to that unseen—to the place where God dwells.
Hope—when it’s foolish and unlikely and you have more than a dozen physical reasons not to hope—is the entry point into a life of keeping your eyes locked on an unseen God while living in the everyday reality that doesn’t yet match that for which you’re praying.
To hope that He can do the impossible while also recognizing that He may sovereignly choose not to leaves us in the unique position of reaching for the emotions residing in His heart. Hope opens up new, broken-yet-faithful ways to approach the almighty God.
Hope moves us from intellectually relating to Him as a transactional God, to sitting on His lap and calling Him Daddy. This perspective shift, birthed from holding on to tenuous hope, may be the very reason He keeps us in that waiting room.
then there was also this, from sarah bessey (the sara(h)s apparently write allthegoodstuff):
Barbara Kingsolver wrote in her book, Animal Dreams, “The very least you can do in your life is figure out what you hope for. And the most you can do is live inside that hope. Not admire it from a distance but live right in it, under its roof.”
These days, that sounds a lot like Hebrews 11 to me. So right now I think faith is figuring out what I hope for – redemption, wholeness, shalom, justice, love, life, one small baby to live and not die, all of it – and then fearlessly living under that roof.
hopeful. fearless. words i don’t usually use to describe myself. but oh, how i want them to be true.