Hope

In the midst of figurative broken ropes and dashed crystal goblets - a fabric of life that sometimes seems frayed or unraveled - stands the greater reality of a sure, secure anchor. Clinging to that anchor in the midst of storms requires intention and will.  Courage.  Bravery.  Determination. It requires faith in the Author of it. Faith in His plan.  Faith in His hope.

Hope is having faith in more than my ability to patch ravelings.   It is having faith that another Kingdom is real, right now, as I slowly watch a loved one's health fail.  It is faith in the One who made us both to share His divinity, faith that He is with us in moments when circumstantial winds buffet and batter.  When coughs wrack, when shortness of breath chokes. When the inability to swallow fosters anxiety, when reclining seems impossible.  

This kind of rock-like hope is based on a worthy Person rather than an abstract ideal. Conversely, wispy wishes, mistaken as hopeful antidotes, fade like dissolving whiffs of incense.  Addictions, posing as distractions, only promise to imprison with counterfeit relief. Yearnings and longings, other hopeful-looking imposters, tease and mock without materializing.  These kinds of pseudo-hopes allow circumstantial winds to buffet and batter, to keep us in a storm-tossed state lost at sea.  Lord help us to not wish or yearn for bandaids, but rather hope in You! 

Real hope holds me to the Presence of God - His love, His mercy, even as storms assail.  I'm anchored and therefore safe even in the midst of fear or loss, even in the midst of need or confusion, or lastly, even death.