Grace on a Thursday: Hope

Yesterday I was kinda overwhelmed at one point. So many things to do. All of them seemed important and I didn't know what to prioritize. I gave myself a timeout and sat on the edge of my bed, my bare heels perched on the frame. I closed my eyes. The first thing that came to mind was the tsunami in Japan.

My daughter was doing homework, my son was picking up his room. I wondered what I would choose to do if I only had fifteen minutes left with them. How would I feel? What would I say to them?

The thing that jumped out at me most powerfully, the thing that I would want to grab their shoulders and try to shake into their souls, is that they cannot simply believe in God. They must believe God. Believe that He is good and loving and worthy of their total trust. And know that trust is an action of the will, it is work, and it is daily.

It is hourly.

My mind flipped back to my to-do list. After reflecting on what is also my own crucial, hourly work - to believe God - suddenly all was less important, and I grieved the way I raise my tasks and hobbies and worries to a level of focus - dare I call it worship - that should be reserved for God alone.

Last week, a friend in my Bible Study shared a story. Her close friend, a woman of God, suffered a serious accident, and for a moment, crossed the line from life to death. You've heard stories like this, I'm sure. But the one greatest impression this woman had was not the usual seeing of all light, or hearing beautiful music. She felt an instant lifting of tremendous weight off her soul. A massive relief of burden pushing up and off of her. She was released from the grip of our current, dying existence.

My eyes flush to think of it. The weight lifted off in a blink. And the discomfort we feel in our present bodies, in our sickness, in our pain and despair and cloudiness, are just blessed reminders: we were created for more than this. We were created for freedom.

On a Thursday, knee deep in T-ball and spring cleaning, arguing with my husband, and making snacks for the St. Patty's Day class party, it's hard to remember. But I want to.

Today I'm embracing perspective. It is a perspective only followers of Jesus can claim, that one day, everything will change. He will wipe away every tear. Bind up the brokenhearted. Set the captives free.

That, my friends, is a hope that will not disappoint (Rom 5:5).

Hope is an anchor for the soul (Heb. 6:19).

Hope is a helmet of protection (I Thes 5:8).

It won't be long until that day. Maybe just a blink. All our troubles will be lifted off, and we will be home.

I'm keeping these truths in mind as I click off the computer, walk into my day, my relationships, my work, remembering my Hope.