hope
On an ordinary day, I looked across my table bearing the contents of my morning.
A Bible and notebook were already tucked away and as my eyes scanned this length of cloth,
I saw objects of hope.
Singular.
Collective.
Insignificant.
Each minuscule daily routine, a tiny act of hope.
If we pay attention or ponder long enough, most of life revolves around hope.
Often this can feel like trying to pinch a quickly ascending balloon string,
leaving us empty-handed, chins pointed towards the sky.
Hope, has once again, escaped grasp.
After snapping this photo, I see how my wiser choices reveal hope, otherwise,
I might as well eat snack food for breakfast.
But on this table of hope set before me, this is what I actually see.
These are my pleas:
I hope vitamins will keep my body healthy and extend my life.
I hope fish oil really is all it claims, as it literally is not an easy pill to swallow.
I hope writing a few lines each day will further unfold and expand this glorious life,
one mundane detail at a time.
I hope my morning coffee still resides on the “good for me” list.
I hope to choose a worthy starting word leading to the fewest guesses on the daily Wordle puzzle.
I hope blueberries are truly a superfood.
I hope, I hope and I hope.
Hope is sipping my morning coffee in safety,
praying the weapons drawn will be laid down.
Hope is opening your eyes in the morning.
Hope is taking the first step.
Hope is turning a page.
Hope is extending a second chance, a grace offered.
Hope is being forgiven.
Hope is living in the intersection of boundless goodness and excruciating hardness.
Hope is tapping out letters to form words that transform into sentences.
Hope is believing there is more hidden than what is visible to the eye.
Hope is the fear of drowning but knowing the depths the Anchor has plummeted.
Hope translated two ways:
We who have run for our very lives to God have every reason to grab the promised hope with both hands and never let go. It’s an unbreakable spiritual lifeline, reaching past all appearances right to the very presence of God where Jesus, running on ahead of us, has taken up his permanent post as high priest for us, in the order of Melchizedek.
Hebrews 6:19 MSG
This hope [this confident assurance] we have as an anchor of the soul [it cannot slip and it cannot break down under whatever pressure bears upon it]—a safe and steadfast hope that enters within the veil [of the heavenly temple, that most Holy Place in which the very presence of God dwells]
Hebrews 6:19 AMP
May you experience a deeper sense of hope this week in the midst of the smallness and vastness of daily life.