There’s Something About Hope

Last night I laid in bed tossing and turning for about 2 hours.  I had my announced observation today, so naturally I am thinking of all of the things that could possibly go wrong.  One thought would spiral to the next, and I was lost in my thoughts and anxiety.  I just simply could not shut my brain down, which is so unlike me at bedtime.  I laid there frustrated, and in a way I was almost hopeless.  I thought I would never get to sleep.  I just wanted to go ahead, get the day started so I could get the observation over with, and then actually get some sleep.


There it was.

A glimpse of hope:  This will end.  It will be over with.  It will pass.  I will get to rest tomorrow night.

Ah, hope.

Hope has a way of getting us through some pretty rough times.  The hope of something better.  The hope of something new.  The hope of throwing out the old.  The hope of healing.  The hope of answers.  The hope for the future.  The hope of light in the darkness.  The hope for something good.

I’m in my car, rain is pouring, and I have to walk inside without a rain jacket or umbrella.  I will get wet, but I will dry eventually (hope).  I will be inside where it is warm, which will help some (hope)…

BUT what about when you are drenched to the core?  When you have waded through the flood.  When it’s cold inside and outside.  Will it really end?  Hope?  Where are you?

What about when hope seems lost?  When all of a sudden, it disappears and is no more.  When the pain won’t quit.  When bad news continues.  When loss grips your soul and takes you down a scary and lonely path.  When disappointment weighs more than you can bear.  When you try and try and nothing gets better.  When your prayers seem stale and dry and worthless.

All of a sudden all of these hopes don’t work.  They are faulty.  They are earthly.  They ultimately lead you back to where you were.  They are tangible, yet temporary.


These hopes might get you through a night.  They might get you through a day.  They might even help you get to next week.

Eventually, these hopes will run out.  Let us not be fooled by these hopes.  When our hope is not on the Rock that is higher than all the floods and destruction our hope fades and turns out to be watered down and worthless.  The Rock that will never crack or break or fall.  The Rock that stands firm in the storm.  The Rock that never moves.  The Rock that is eternal.  There.  There it is.  That is hope.  That is something to hold onto.  That is someONE to hold onto.

The truth is, for those that submit to Jesus, it will end.  He is the Rock.  The flood will cease.  The rain will stop.  Your clothes will dry.  He wraps you in a warm towel fresh from the dryer.  He puts you in new clothes.  He sets you on higher ground -places you could never go or reach on your own.  He says, “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine.” Isaiah 43:1

Friend, it will end one day.  One day there will be no more bad news, no more pain, no more worry, no more sorrow.  Hold fast to the Rock.  Take refuge in Him.  Take courage.

Thank you, LORD for being our strength and the Rock of our salvation.

“I waited patiently for the LORD; he turned to me and heard my cry.  He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand.  He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God.  Many will see and fear and put their trust in the LORD.  Blessed is the man who makes the LORD his trust.”  Psalm 40:1-4

Until it ends, sing his praise.  He stands with you, but also stands waiting with open arms on the other side.

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.  When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.  For I am the LORD, your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.”  Isaiah 43:2-3