Hope Really Floats

Hope is a flighty word. It is pie in the sky or wish upon a star or genie in a lamp. But it really isn't - if your hope is in Something.

But we don't consider that Hope. Hope is what we place in the stock market, or in a spouse, or in a job, or in our children. All notoriously unreliable. So why do I do it? Because these things give me identity, they give me joy, they give me security. They also disappoint me, hurt me, kick me out, and desert me. So is my hope misplaced or not hope at all. I think I will rename those. They are wishes like when you blow out candles on your cake. Gone with the smoke that whispers from the wick.

Hope is something I place. In hands sure enough to cup me in them. Arms strong enough to lift me up. And love that will never let me fall. Because it never fails. Hope assured.....

A Promise

I am lying in bed next to my husband. It is 2 AM and he has had a rough week. In addition to ongoing medical and financial issues, he is suffering a stomach virus. This illness is a drop in the bucket in comparison to what he is going through. But this is the proverbial " straw that broke the camel's back". Through the years, he and I have found comfort in tough times, by my reading scripture out loud. I have been doing that and he asks that I find the words to his favorite hymn. I do and start to read them to him:

Hymn of Promise by Natalie Sleeth

In the bulb there is a flower; in the seed, an apple tree;
In cocoons, a hidden promise: butterflies will soon be free!
In the cold and snow of winter there’s a spring that waits to be,
Unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.

There’s a song in every silence, seeking word and melody;
There’s a dawn in every darkness, bringing hope to you and me.
From the past will come the future; what it holds, a mystery,
Unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.

In our end is our beginning; in our time, infinity;
In our doubt there is believing; in our life, eternity,
In our death, a resurrection; at the last, a victory,
Unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.

My husband's back is to me and I suddenly see the jerking of his shoulders. He is crying. Now, a man crying is not all that unusual, but my husband is a big strapping ex college football playing guy and this is rare. Life has literally slapped him up side the head with a big dose of woe and this simple song has released the torrent.

The phone rings, a call from work, and he must go in for a little while. I hate it and am worried about him. But after dressing, he looks at me and with a smile, says, "It is going to be OK".

As I hear the front door close, I know it will. Not because the difficulties have been resolved or the viral side effects completel relieved. But because in the dark of the tunnel, he has seen a small pinpoint of light. He cannot tell me exactly what it is, but he knows it is not a train, and that is the only hope he has to cling to right now.

Funny, how sometimes that is all we have and it turns out to be enough. Not the promise of promotion, good health, or financial security. But the faint glimmer of hope that this too shall pass. He walks with us through the wind, the fire, the water. The fire may be quenched, the winds calmed, and the waters quieted. But not necessarily so. He walks with us "through". How blessed that word is - "through". Not set up camp, hunker down, or build a condo there. Through it to the other side. That is the hope my husband had in his words and his smile this morning. And he shared it with me.
Praise God!