Me and my sweaty feet.

 

I think I may have a problem. My feet sweat. A lot.

They sweat when I’m barefoot. They sweat in tennis shoes. They sweat in sandals.

My feet sweat even when they’re cold.   And I don’t understand. 

I don’t understand it. It’s not logical to me.

In my brain, cold should equal dry. 

I’m not sure how cold feet and sweaty feet can exist at the same time in the same place.

There are some other things that don’t make sense to me right now, either.

God has promised me something. It’s kind of a big thing.

And, logically, I can’t make it make sense. I can’t figure out a way that it will ever happen.

And in the midst of trying to figure it out I have this fear and this hope that are constantly battling to have control of my heart.

Fear and hope. They don’t go together. They shouldn’t be happening at the same time. But they are. 

I have this great big hope in my heart that the thing that the Lord has said will someday be my reality.

At the same time, I have this fear that comes and goes and works hard to convince me it’s not worth hoping for the thing that may not happen. 

Fear is working to convince me that the hoping can’t out-weigh the hurt that could take it’s place.

The hurt could happen.

But, the Lord has made me a promise. 

The answer to his promise is always yes.

Even if it doesn’t look like what I thought, it’s still yes.

The fear is still there. 

And this is what I know about fear.  

The best way to get past it is to do the thing that I am most afraid of.

Right now, I am most definitely afraid to hope. So, hope is the only option.

Today I am hoping. I’m hoping and believing and trusting.