“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, which according to His abundant mercy hath begotten us again unto a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead…” 1 Peter 1:3 KJV
“By Whom also we have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God. And not only so, but we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope…” Romans 5:2-4 KJV
I peer through the darkness.
Can’t see my hands in front of my face.
Then I hear a whisper, calm, full of love,
nudging me, “My child, just open your eyes.”
There cupped in my hands,
bright swirls of hope, sphered.
(light beams create a path)
I cradle it.
Cradle it dear.
A perfect present from a perfect Father.
Too scared to let go or damage or destroy
this fragile-looking gift,
I stand perfectly still.
No harm shall I let come its way.
Then the earth shakes,
shakes a little more.
I can barely stand.
I have to take a step,
threaten my hope in the
unquantifiable movement of escape.
And worse, this hope threatens to fall,
I resist, I refuse to let go.
Why would God send this hope,
and let it shatter?
And so let me shatter?
Despite all the focus, the care
to keep that precious sphere
from falling, from breaking,
we shatter as the earth shakes.
It ruptures open.
Where am I now?
I close my eyes.
And we’re broken.
The bright swirls change,
released from their sphere.
And they grow with plumes of smoke,
consuming the earth all around,
disappearing in the jaws of former dreams.
If only I had pursued them before we fell.
I run and trip and fall and crawl.
So terrified of this…monster.
It was hope.
Why would hope devour my reality?
Why does it blind me?
When I open my eyes, I still cannot see.
Every time I cry out for Shepherd,
it grows bigger, chases closer to me.
I can’t go on anymore.
One last heave of my legs and I’m done.
I’m on fire.
I’m on ice.
I’m too empty, yet too full of
still grasping for hands more reliable than my own.
And then suddenly I see.
I see farther.
Beauty seeping into scars.
Light fragmented from embracing broken places.
I, no longer scared of the darkness in blinks.
Breathing in freed hope’s sweet air.
The ground beneath me no longer shakes.
And I know when it does — and it will —
I’ll run stronger, and braver.
Knowledge burning through my veins.
Confidence refreshing my bones.
My hands, not imprisoned by any sphere,
stretch out and I notice a mist fading as it
marks the way, colours the world in miracles…
the signature of a Saviour.
His hands guide my all-encompassing awakening,
smoky and scary only by my unbelief.
That perfect present from my perfect Father.
Hope not still.
The quantifiable movement of purpose.
My purpose immersed in grace.
I am immersed in God’s grace.
“Now our Lord Jesus Christ Himself, and God, even our Father, Which hath loved us, and hath given us everlasting consolation and good hope through grace, comfort your hearts, and stablish you in every good word and work.” 2 Thessalonians 2:16-17 KJV
“Grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. To Him be glory both now and for ever. Amen.” 2 Peter 3:18 KJV