But Christ is faithful as the Son over God’s house. And we are his house, if indeed we hold firmly to our confidence and the hope in which we glory.
I’m surrounded by unpacked bags in my office. They sit, along with a good part of my to do list ignored, awaiting a bit of attention from me. In my free time, I sit and stare blankly, semi-paralyzed considering the lists that grow longer as my capacity to complete tasks grows more impossible…with every passing moment. I wonder why I return to this place, again and again.
It’s the place of Overwhelmed. It’s not God’s place for me any more than the desert was for a bunch of wandering Israelites…and yet it is His classroom as it was for my sweet, Jewish, faith forerunners. I learn much from them, I confess. I read and re-read the story and History of Israel and I see myself more clearly, through His eyes. Am humbled by His mercy and wonder at His wrath. Am sick with the beauty and pain of it. The pure unadulterated truth that is being muffled daily by those who call themselves intellectual, enlightened, knowledgeable.
I can’t watch a drop of news because my chest swells, and I can’t breathe and I feel Jesus weep within me. Not to mention I am waging war with enemies within and without of my own small circle of love. The battle to hang on spiritually, emotionally, mentally…wages on. Hanging on and victoriously living are two different things. Don’t you dare point a finger because suffering is promised my friend, along with victory. My stomach turns, and I hang on. Hope swells larger than my pride, and lingers long. It never leaves me…it never leaves you who cling to His hope.
I hang on to this hope.
Especially on those days it’s hard to hang on.
And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.
What do you cling to on those days it’s hard to hang on?