We've all heard that quote by Emily Dickinson about hope being the thing with *feathers*. Well, by the time I went to bed last night, I felt like I had feathers--as in, I could fly because I was full of hope!
The past couple of months have not been the easiest for me. There have been things happening in my life--in my family's life--that have been hurtful and difficult to process. Things to process about people that we once trusted and admired who turned out to betray us and lack integrity of character. I haven't felt very hopeful some days. Most days were better, but some days have been (are) a struggle. I know deep in my heart that God has NEVER failed me and never will. I know deep in my heart that He hears my prayers and is always there, never abandoning me.
Sometimes though I just need that extra reassurance.
The first night of our family vacation when both mine and my husband's phones fell in the pool was one of those times. When I mentioned melting down in my post here, I wasn't kidding. I was really upset. It wasn't just about the phones. It was about feeling like "can just one more thing happen to us?!?" "Is God still watching out for us?" I'm sure that sounds pretty melodramatic, but the feeling of abandonment was so strong that night. For a few minutes I felt like my faith hung in the balance. And not over the fate of a couple of cell phones, but whether or not God would hear my prayer.
So when my hubby's cell phone suddenly revived, it was such a ray of light! It really was a miracle! Even though I was disappointed that my phone hadn't come around, my hope was still sparking because at least half of my prayer had been answered. It seemed so critical to me--and it was.
Since the death of my phone, I'd moved on and simply transferred my number back to my old phone that I still had at home. I really hadn't thought a whole lot more about it, just being grateful to have a phone again.
Apparently my husband hadn't forgotten though. Last night he walked into our bedroom (I wasn't in there at the time) and happened to see my old, drowned phone lying there. He thought, to God, "God, why did you revive my phone and not Lora's, too?" Then a second quiet thought came to him, a small still voice that said "plug it in." So he did. And you know what happened? IT CAME ON! And started charging! Now, for those of you who have had experience with cell phones, you know that when one falls under water for a good 15-20 seconds, it's sudden death. There's no coming back. No reviving.
Kind of like when something tries to smother our hope. It's like a death in our soul.
Then suddenly when all hope seems gone, God makes Himself known in a fresh new way, when you're totally not even expecting it. That's just like Him, isn't it? Unpredictably meeting us just when we need it and giving us that gentle reassurance that He cares and loves us--more than we could ever know. Something as simple as reviving a once-dead cell phone becomes a symbol of our faith getting a fresh breath, a new wind of strength.
I'll leave you with the lyrics to a song by Sara Groves. I was listening to it yesterday in the car while running errands alone. I've heard it many times, but it jumped out at me again yesterday.
It Might Be Hope
The past couple of months have not been the easiest for me. There have been things happening in my life--in my family's life--that have been hurtful and difficult to process. Things to process about people that we once trusted and admired who turned out to betray us and lack integrity of character. I haven't felt very hopeful some days. Most days were better, but some days have been (are) a struggle. I know deep in my heart that God has NEVER failed me and never will. I know deep in my heart that He hears my prayers and is always there, never abandoning me.
Sometimes though I just need that extra reassurance.
The first night of our family vacation when both mine and my husband's phones fell in the pool was one of those times. When I mentioned melting down in my post here, I wasn't kidding. I was really upset. It wasn't just about the phones. It was about feeling like "can just one more thing happen to us?!?" "Is God still watching out for us?" I'm sure that sounds pretty melodramatic, but the feeling of abandonment was so strong that night. For a few minutes I felt like my faith hung in the balance. And not over the fate of a couple of cell phones, but whether or not God would hear my prayer.
So when my hubby's cell phone suddenly revived, it was such a ray of light! It really was a miracle! Even though I was disappointed that my phone hadn't come around, my hope was still sparking because at least half of my prayer had been answered. It seemed so critical to me--and it was.
Since the death of my phone, I'd moved on and simply transferred my number back to my old phone that I still had at home. I really hadn't thought a whole lot more about it, just being grateful to have a phone again.
Apparently my husband hadn't forgotten though. Last night he walked into our bedroom (I wasn't in there at the time) and happened to see my old, drowned phone lying there. He thought, to God, "God, why did you revive my phone and not Lora's, too?" Then a second quiet thought came to him, a small still voice that said "plug it in." So he did. And you know what happened? IT CAME ON! And started charging! Now, for those of you who have had experience with cell phones, you know that when one falls under water for a good 15-20 seconds, it's sudden death. There's no coming back. No reviving.
Kind of like when something tries to smother our hope. It's like a death in our soul.
Then suddenly when all hope seems gone, God makes Himself known in a fresh new way, when you're totally not even expecting it. That's just like Him, isn't it? Unpredictably meeting us just when we need it and giving us that gentle reassurance that He cares and loves us--more than we could ever know. Something as simple as reviving a once-dead cell phone becomes a symbol of our faith getting a fresh breath, a new wind of strength.
I'll leave you with the lyrics to a song by Sara Groves. I was listening to it yesterday in the car while running errands alone. I've heard it many times, but it jumped out at me again yesterday.
It Might Be Hope
by Sara Groves
You do your work the best that you can
You put one foot in front of the other
Life comes in waves and makes it's demands
You hold on as well as you're able
You've been here for a long long time
Hope has a way of turning it's face to you
Just when you least expect it
You walk in a room
You look out a window
And something there leaves you breathless
You say to yourself
It's been a while since I felt this
But it feels like it might be hope
It's hard to recall what blew out the flame
It's been dark since you can remember
You talk it all through to find it a name
As days go on by without number
You've been here for a long long time
Hope has a way of turning it's face to you
Just when you least expect it
You walk in a room
You look out a window
And something there leaves you breathless
You say to yourself
It's been a while since I felt this
But it feels like it might be hope.