If you are friends with me on Facebook, there is a chance you have already read this blog in a separate post. If so, you need only read this if you are truly interested in reading the exact same thing a second time. Ha.
Today, I was out driving around (I go for a LOT of walks and drives these days.), and as I passed a local hospital, I felt a tug in my spirit to pull into the parking lot to pray.
I began to pray for others—for healthcare workers and patients and families of patients and people I know and people I don’t know.
And as I began to pray, hope began to rise within me.
Not just a little bit of hope. I’m talking about a heaping scoop of hope.
In fact, in the midst of one of the most catastrophic events of my lifetime, I probably have more hope than I’ve ever had.
But how can that be?
I cannot be with the people I love the most.
I cannot attend my local church.
While I have a place to stay, I do not have a home.
I have a college degree, but I am not using it.
I do not have a job.
I am paying bills, but I do not have an income.
The plan for my life did a 180 when I was told that I needed to get on an airplane and fly home due to Coronavirus, so I do not have a plan for the future.
And if that wasn’t enough, as an empathetic person, I feel the pain of others, as tornadoes rip through their lives. Health is declining; finances are draining; business dreams are dying; being an essential worker is stressful; being a non-essential worker is stressful. And I cannot fix their problems.
I have lost control.
This is the first time that I truly cannot rely on people, a church building, a home, my own knowledge, a job, money, my future plans, or my own abilities.
The future looks bleak? Right? WRONG.
In the midst of the discomfort and fear and pain and death and hopelessness of this world, I want to yell, “I HAVE HOPE!”
Because my hope is not found in the things of this world.
My people are a gift, but my hope is not found in others.
Being a part of a local church is a necessity to me, but my hope is not found in the four walls of a building.
I often dream of having a home, but my hope will never be found in a living space.
Though I believe that education is important, my hope is not found in my own knowledge.
We often find purpose in a job, but my hope is not found in my work.
While good stewardship and financial stability are important; my hope is not found in my finances.
Although I am a planner by nature, I know that my hope is not found in my own plans.
And my hope is big enough to believe for big, beautiful things in the lives of others in the midst of a storm.
Because my hope is in Jesus.
It is in His sacrificial love. It is in His peace that surpasses understanding. It is in His goodness and faithfulness. It is in His healing and provision.
As I was reading an article, recently, a quote struck me: “What the Christian church can provide at its best is the ability to suffer with hope.”
And as I reflected on that quote, these words came to me: I want to still be able to proclaim Your name in the face of pain.”
Regardless of any pain that comes to me in this world, may I always suffer with hope.
Because my hope is not in the things of this world.
My hope is in Jesus.
