It would have been nice if Hope had been born in a climate-controlled suite with a pool for the water birth, a trained doula ready to catch and pass baby while soft, soothing music played in the background, the lights dimmed, the smell of jasmine from the candles burning all around the room.
But Hope is born in a freezing stable among less fragrant animals, a crib the only luxury, the only background music the party at the inn behind them and the darkness a blinding cover rather than a controlled atmosphere created by the push of a button.
Because Hope would have to be strong.
Hope would have to be able to carry a heavy burden with ease.
And then it makes sense that Hope was born in chaos.
Because it is in chaos that there is usually a heavy burden to carry.
When I struggle with the giant boulder that I have been carrying for years now and that threatens to cost me a rotator cuff operation, the Hope that approaches softly with gentle hands and a fancy suit may not really be the Hope in which I will have much confidence to surrender my burden.
How different it is when I see Hope approaching upright and ready, hands callused from hard and honourable work, knuckles bleeding for having to break down doors to get to me, face sweaty and radiating determination, clothes that have survived more than a few skirmishes.
It is in this Hope's hands that I feel I can let go.
If I want to make sure Hope is there when I need it most, then I have to be willing to let Hope go.
Hope will get dirty.
Hope will get wet.
Hope will be screamed at.
Hope will be dashed.
Hope will be broken.
Hope will be rejected at times.
But Hope will be tested.
And Hope will mature.
Hope will grow strong.
Hope will become the multi-stranded rope that can carry a heavy load with ease.
Tikvah…
(Hebrew for Hope)
Hope can only be born in chaos.
Because when everything goes according to plan
and my days are all meadow walks along beautiful places
and my plans are all going according to plan
and life is a song, then
Hope is not necessary.
Every new design of
every new thing in
every moment on earth
is here because someone
somewhere,
needed something.
Because things don't always go according to plan
and sometimes the road goes under a graffiti-strewn underpass
and sometimes my plans explode bright yellow egg yolk in all directions
and sometimes life is a rap song full of f-bombs
and sometimes Hope is so necessary.
The Hope that has been here before.
And have the scars to show for it.
"Everything I hope for comes from Him,
so why not?
He's solid rock under my feet,
breathing room for my soul,
An impregnable castle:
I'm set for life."
Psalms 62:5,6 The Message
Your inspiration for the week: He is
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