But as for me, I will always have hope; I will praise You more and more.
More energy leaks away when I try and keep You in line with life than when I release You into the wild of my heart. It’s more exhausting keeping the neat lines I’ve aligned with my purpose, my days, the structure of simply living. I’ve made it way more complicated than You intend, but in my crazy fear of recognizing that Your ways are not my ways, I strain tighter my grip around possibility and batter down my belief in You.
Anxiety is a poison that consumes my nerves from the inside out. And the unfathomable thing is that I allow it access to my strongholds. Where once I lay secure in You, I am torn down and shriveled by the smallness of my faith. And so I again construct neat boxes, air-tight spaces where I can have a say about my life. So I cannot be hurt, so I can be safe.
Where there is constricting order, no room for adventure can breathe. And adventure is part of Your purpose for this entire existence, invented by You.
I cannot understand Your ways, but I can no longer try and box You in. You are beyond reasoning, more than what people, myself included, corner You in to be.
It comes back down to my perception of You. I’ve limited Your otherness, Your bigness, by bringing You down to where I want to contain You. I do not know what You will do, and I have to have answers first before I go ahead and make a move. I have been afraid to really let You loose over my life. I have been afraid to step into the unknown, into what I cannot see, and adjust to Your timing when I have wanted it my way, in my time. I wanted it now, was hoping for everything to pull together, but it is all still forming.
We get one chance at this life to live it right, live it well. And it is always right in front of me. Try as fervently as I can to ignore the intrigue, it will not go away.
When all spark is gone, hope still springs to life.
It’s a funny thing, hope. A little hook in the heart that just won’t leave. Even when I can’t believe it could happen, whatever that “it” is. Even when my faith is small and cloistering, hope calls me higher. Hope endures all things, along with love. It will not go away.It’s a funny thing, hope. A little hook in the heart that just won’t leave. @SRennAwake Click To Tweet
Does hope still stay, even in the face of impossibility?
“As for me, I will always have hope.”
You empower me with hope. For some inexplicable reason, I’m swollen with a lightness of chest, a hope in You to be big and to pull together impossible situations. To keep believing You to come through in the best possible ways. To hope in You, who turned death into a laughing matter when You went into the deep terror and triumphed.
Call me crazy, but I can’t get this feeling out of my brain, from the inexplicable way of my heart. For me, belief has been a brittle thing, but what You most want to draw out of me. To turn my “What if” into “Why not?”
There is so much more to come if I let You take the reins. What in the world could You do with a reckless faith that fully trusts, fervently hopes?
May this be me again. May I be answered and healed by my faith. And not just healed, but transformed, restored, flung into hope uncontainable.
I hear You calling me out into the wilderness, again to rise, and my heart perks, curious. The hope it takes to follow, pick up and power forward—I feel its strength surge.