May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. (Romans 15:5.)
I wonder??? What does hope look like in the everyday? And as I lie here in my make-shift office (a white-cotton-sailors hammock), and my toes pluck chords like guitar strings, my heart quickens as I write the first blog. Light dapples. Light dances. And an optimism rushes in like that which seemed to swallow me whole and willingly during each of my pregnancies. And although no, I am not pregnant (someone please pick my husband up off of the floor now), I have that same Expectant Hope—anticipation of all things dreamed. Big Hope.
I’ve known big hope. I’ve seen it in fistfuls of dandelions held by tiny fingers. Toddlers standing eager to force their love upon me. With noses yellow and smudgy, they’d squeeze their victims tight and defenseless. “Mommies got plenty of those, honey.” I would remind. “For you mommy!!!” was the reply, with the determination to harvest our acre lot. And if need be the neighbors acre lot. After all—gracious love knows no bounds.
Relentlessly they shoved sunshine overflowing into my hands. My hair. My pockets. Petals soaked in vases until water turned green and the house filled with the scent of a wet-wet forest. Or a dry-dry swamp. I’m not really sure. But I know that even though it looked like weeds and smelled a little like…um…weeds. My pockets overflowed with hope while my cheeks caught smudgy-yellow kisses.
But even sweet kisses from a toddler can turn into grumbles from a teenager. And so I watch where I place my Big Hope. Many times I have found hope nestled in disappointment, gathered in victory, or stock piled in my own best efforts, only to see that its as fragile as a bubble pulled from the summer sky. My Big hope rests in a Big God. Not in a God who demands perfection ( he knows me too well for that), but in a Savior who pushes his abundant, undeserving love on me. After all—gracious love knows no bounds. So he hands me bouquets of dreams and is determined to harvest something good in me when most days I feel run down and worn out. He is my renovator. He is my fixer. He is my Big Hope. Sweet friends, I am praying for BIG hope for you today, and of course, lots of smudgy-yellow kisses!!!