The cheers with grape juice filled wine glasses. Sets of his and her towels. Pink and blue stripped panels of our lives wind around each other mirroring the perfections of children’s friendships. The ups and downs of life sway back and forth from taking deep breaths, to exhaling when it’s necessary. The “Mom!” crys are more often then the quite moments. The socks are more mismatched then not. The butterfly kisses are more than the meltdowns. The sting of being alone in the most glorious, raw, beautiful life moments is something that tugs at my heart more often then not.
Hope, the heart beat of the soul… I had mine, placed in a Tiffany blue box and tied with the bow of the ideal life.
God is so gracious to remove neatly tied ribbons to reveal boxes of origami paper dreams I have intentionally crafted.
He wants more than that for me. He wants heart stopping intimacy with Him and that comes from heart stopping trust.
Hope built on Pintrest life boards always cease when the WIFI cuts out. God gently removes me from fabricated ideas of my agenda and sets me in a place of not knowing what is going to happen; simply to instill in my heart, He is safe to trust. Somehow, it feels much safer to know a glimpse of the pathway ahead. When all of the folded paper is flown about the room and the box is empty, I am left realizing Hope can’t come from an idea of a solution. It can’t come from stale bread, it has to come from the Living Bread each and everyday. It has to come from the Fresh Mana moments of intimacy from His heart to mine.
My Hope has to be in His character and not circumstances. For me, He uses reconstruction of mental inventory, it always happens with a blank script of the future. My pen, His hand, and my soul Resting. Wringing my hands is a reflection of a soul whose confidence is set on self and control. He is teaching me, I don’t have to know where I am going, I just have to know He will be there every single step.
The Proverbs 31 woman laughed at the future. God laughs at the lies of the enemy. Yet crying seams to suite my heart’s disposition rather than laughing.
When hope is rooted in self, self has to sustain it. Control and manipulation knock on the door of self idolatry and before long it’s a hot mess of distrust.
When Peter stepped out on the water he didn’t know how many steps he would take. He didn’t know if he would walk on water for hours or minutes, he just stepped. He didn’t have to know what would happen next, he just looked at Jesus and walked towards Him. Peter trusted because He was walking towards Love. Whenever we take a step towards Love, fear dissipates. Perfect Love always casts out fear. Love always carries Hope. Hope is not in knowing what is going to happen, it’s knowing the One you are holding onto.
He knows I want that kind of fruit in my life. He allows circumstances that hit me to the core of my being to show where roots are growing, where there are seeds of distrust, and where my perspective lies. He wants the lies gone and the dark clouds to roll away to reveal the clarity that can only come from trust. Hope differed makes the heart sick, and my heart has been burning in a way I have never felt before. It has felt lost, longing, alone, stinging, and everything in-between. Yet He is constant, He has never left. He reached out His hand and held every piece of brokeness, from glass pierced hands to bruised expectations. He takes that brokeness and calls it beauty. He rips open the cave of isolation and shines light into the dark places. He calls me out upon the water…towards Himself.
It’s on the water I am most exposed, transparent, vulnerable. There is no safety but Him.
He wants to hear me say yes to Him in front of everyone and everything that has ever stopped me from intimacy with Him. Yes, in front of every fear that has ever robbed me of anything. He calls me to take a step because He knows, in that moment faith is birthed, hope is restored, and that one step becomes the greatest step. He has always been one step away.
He is calling you out upon the water…