Hope floats

“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 6:18-20 (The Message)


Hope.  It’s the connection between mere mortals and our Creator.

Sometimes it’s the only thing that gets me out of bed in the morning.

Especially this week, full of memories I’d rather forget.  I replay the events from 4 years ago, a routine surgery gone terribly wrong.  I walked into the hospital with my healthy husband.  I walked out 5 days later as a widow.

Try as I might, the events play over and over in my head, like a macabre highlight reel stuck on “repeat” or “rewind.”  Last Sunday, 7/25 (the date of his first surgery), my phone, kept on silent by my bedside, vibrated twice at 4:30 a.m.  That’s the exact time we’d awakened to go to the hospital, 4 years ago.

Talk about a wake-up call.

I just went ahead and got up for the day, there was no going back to sleep afterwards.

Hope assures me, however, this is not how my family’s story will end.

Hope tells me I must keep my head up, looking ahead.  Looking back will bring only pain and a litany of “shoulda-woulda-coulda” moments.

Hope reminds me this is only a dress rehearsal, this thing called “life.”  It passes in the blink of an eye.

Hope insists God will restore us.  Hope declares His purpose for our lives will eventually be revealed, and that any pain will be used for His glory. He’s given us glimpses, and it’s going to be beautiful.  But right now it just hurts.

When we’re weary, replaying sad events in our minds, hope is the nudge that refocuses us.

It’s an unbreakable lifeline, hope.  No matter the circumstance or situation, hope remains.

So we continue to hope.  “Hope is an anchor, firm and secure.”

“Hope floats..”

In the meantime, my boys and I will keep plugging along, fixing our eyes on an unknown future–trusting it to a known God.

Grabbing onto the lifeline, not letting go.

Hoping for better days in August.

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