crashing waves of grief :: and do you know who [I am]

The last few days and yesterday in particular, I have been on cloud nine.

Then all it took was running into an email yesterday that brought what a friend so poignantly describes as “crashing waves of grief.” The moments where you are fine, or even as I was before I read it, on top of the world and so encouraged, and then all of a sudden, without warning, all of a sudden, you are not.

I didn't plan on checking email or reading anything hard until later, but as I was checking one of my other email accounts to print my crafting coupons for the week, I saw something that grabbed my eye. I didn't want to open it. I was afraid of what I might see, but then decided maybe it wouldn't be that bad.


Reading the email really affected me yesterday, and then after working through it and other things, I was fine. Then all of a sudden more waves of grief hit me this morning as I was getting ready to go to the office. Waves of grief that surfaced this morning that I just had to stop and allow myself to cry, breakdown and process, though I didn't want to. I didn't want to stay there. But something happened in those moments that changed the course of my day, things I share towards the end of this post in more detail, but for now, I'll continue with what happened yesterday.


As I was reading the email, the far too familiar wave of nausea and dread swept over me as I felt that also hauntingly familiar feeling I have had now far too many times than I can count, of how I feel when I hear or read about others that I know who are sick.

When it hits so close to home it is so surreal.

The last few months and last year really, since about this time last year, God has brought a handful of people in my life that He specifically brought into my life to walk through this season with me. People who have a depth of understanding that has come from walking through their own medical journeys or similar or different seasons of grief.


I felt an also far too familiar wave of anger rise up within me. A wave of questions that may never have answers and a feeling that I felt yesterday for the first time of how others have felt when they have heard or read about my story.


I found myself completely broken for their situation and mad that they had to be going through it. I found myself angry of all they are dealing with, as literally behind every single word, I felt I knew the million of words each sentence contained but that didn't make the email. Line after line I found myself able to identify and relate and felt this sense of I know exactly what you are talking about. I read it to Ben later as we were processing and he felt the same way.

It was healing also in the fact that it validated much of the struggle and difficulty we have had in communicating and keeping others updated on my condition as well as validated our need for time, space to grieve, as well as the need to feel normal.

The need to not feel like you have to give everyone an update every time you see them. The need that you have when life and just going through it itself is already enough. When you don't have the energy, physically or emotionally, or the capacity to rehash it all. And how when you're not in appointments or talking about it, you just want to do normal things, feel normal, talk about normal things, and just live your life.


But what hit me more than anything as I was reading this email was the anger and the sorrow I did not expect to come. I was angry just knowing all that we have been through, to know that these people who I haven't known that long, but love, respect, and admire, were having to go through this.

I was sad and I was angry.

An anger and sorrow I have felt when I hear news of others suddenly getting sick, knowing what it feels like when everything can literally change in the blink of an eye. When without so much as a moment's notice, the entire landscape of your life can change.

The same feeling I have struggled to reconcile many a time of things like this coming like a thief in the night.

Stealing and taking without so much of a moment's notice everything about what once was your life. I was broken for them, knowing the grief and the loss and the hardship that is so complex and multifaceted that you so badly wish others could understand.


I found myself facing a lot of questions that resurface from time to time in the midst of my deepest heartache and grief. Questions of why do they have to go through this. Why do people have to get sick. Why is this happening to them. Why haven't the doctors been able to provide answers. And a million others that I have asked relating to my own situation, issues of it not being fair, as I face all the myriad of ways this has changed and affected nearly all of my relationships and everything about my life and our lives.

Questions that I have found I may never have answers to.That I have had to work through, process, grieve, and face so my heart does not grow bitter. Suffering and questions that could have even broken or strengthened me.

Questions that this morning I found again that can only be met in who He is. In His character and the comfort of His love.


The Great I Am.

But, God, do you know that I am disappointed right now?


I found my soul voicing this question that I remember gripped me from my seat as I heard one of my small group leaders ask this as she was talking about the book that held such questions and more as she was talking about how this book had spoken to her.


She said, Do You Know Who I Am? starts off each chapter with a question. Questions that maybe we're all afraid to ask aloud. Questions where there are no easy answers. But, that the answers to all our deepest questions are found in His Word, in who He IS... as the beginning of the book explains and as Michelle shared from the stage. For example, she continued, at the beginning of every chapter with every question she poses, an answer follows, questions and words/reminders of truth that have redefined and shaped my relationship with God, my journey and my heart.


For with "Do You Know I am Disappointed?", He says, "But I am your Hope."


Or "do you know that I am afraid?" "But, I am your Comfort."
"Do You know that I am weak?" "But, I am Your Strength."


There are so many times that the questions in a book I haven't read or picked up in months, deeply minister to me. Our small group leaders gave us a bookmark (with a flower attached, YES, the original flower I was given as a gift that was the gift that inspired and sparked and started this all, Mazvita's Angels :: Crafting for a Cause), and at the top of the bookmark are the words, “Do You Know Who I Am?”


And the twelve statements were written in ascending order as they appeared in the book,

I am Your God Who Sees...
I am Your Comfort...
I am Your Hope...

Etc, etc and I keep this bookmark in my Bible and there are so many times when it falls out and there is a particular word or phrase that I really needed to be reminded of in that moment that changes everything about my outlook and my perspective and my day.


Man, His truth really does set us free. It is crazy sometimes. But so true.

One of the things I also loved about these questions is that finding them in this book gave me permission to ask them.

There are so many times when I am working through something difficult or processing hard emotions/feelings I just would rather not deal with when I am reminded of them and will find myself asking God, God, do you know that my heart is broken right now? Do you know that I am afraid? Do you know that I am crushed right now? Disappointed. Sad. That I feel alone? And I cannot describe how much even just voicing those questions has changed so much about my relationship with God.

I find a comfort as I am reminded and given not so much the answers to my questions of “why” but comfort and peace as I am given answers of “who.”

I am reminded and have had so many times where I realize once I face the question that He already knows is there, buried deep, but that I don't want to unleash, afraid of what might be in pandora's box, I find that time and time again I am received.


I find that something begins to happen when I ask those questions.

I find that I am met and I am seen by the God who Sees.

The only One who knows that state and condition of my heart and my life in that moment and all that is happening in and around me. The only One who hears me. Who is here, who is fighting for me. The One who has never left my side.

In those moments are I am reminded of truth. Reminded not so much of what I feel I need to know in order to have peace, but that which He knows I need.

And somehow, that alone is enough. His presence and His promise which alone can answer me in those moments.

His presence and his promise which alone gives me life.

I find that He is not afraid or offended by my questions, but delights in me asking them. There is something that happens in those moments.

An intimacy that cannot be put into words of knowing that even in my heartache, there is someone who is there, who is grieving, weeping, crying with me and over me, who doesn't push me aware from all that I feel, but deeper into it, One who says the only words my heart has truly needed to hear and the feeling that washes over me that is the point where things begin to change, “Fear not, my child, I am WITH you.”

I find that I am not, I am never alone. Seen, known, held, pursued, chosen, loved, and fought for by the One who alone is faithful.


The One who continues to teach my heart how to trust Him. As He continues to take care of me, continues to be faithful, brings me through heartache from strength to strength, and holds me in the shadow and the Shelter of His wings.

My God of all comfort, my God of peace.

and in his name they will place their {hope}

"for he who has promised is faithful."

{hebrews 10:23}

and in his word i place my {hope}

I wait for the Lord,
my whole being waits...

...and in his word I put my hope.


{psalm 128:5}

-- photo courtesy of julie johnson

{ my hope is in you }

a peace that passes understanding is my song and i sing

my hope is in you alone

I heard this a few times on the radio in the last week, but something about every time I hear it again and especially hearing it tonight out on a drive, I just can't stop singing these words. Resonating with something deep within I cannot even put into words, so I will let my words be few.

I meet with You and my soul sings out

As Your word throws doubt far away

I sing to You and my hearth cries holy

Hallelujah, Father You're near

My hope is in you lord, all the day long

I won't be shaken by drought or storm

A peace that passes understanding is my song and I sing

My hope is in You alone

I wait for You and my soul finds rest

In my selfishness You show me grace

I worship You and my heart cries glory

Hallelujah, Father You're here

I will wait on You, You are my refuge

My hope is in You alone

{ aaron shust } 

- photo courtesy of allison lewis

--we wait in hope--

"and wait expectantly...

...for he who has promised is faithful."

{psalm 33:20, psalm 5:3, hebrews 10:23}

waiting in hope, not in vain, pt. V

CONTINUED FROM... waiting in hope, pt. IV:

It was just a little bit after seeing the light again at the top of the dark pit I was in, as I was slowly, verse by verse, bit by bit making my way up out of this dark tunnel, when I next stumbled upon a passage that became my prayer and declaration for 2011.

Something that in that moment and still today was a battle cry and a declaration of whom and whose I am and whom and who I will trust. Whom is my God, my King, the One leading and guiding me. After becoming more and more encouraged at the way all of these verses and passages were speaking to me, I wrote this down in my journal:

2011: the year we will see your glory, a time where You will do more than we could ever ask for or imagine, as I was reminded of one of my favorite verses in the book of John:

“Did I not tell you that if you only believed,
you would see the glory of God?”
(John 11:40)

Yes, Lord, we want to see your glory, be glorified, I wrote in the margins of my Bible.

After that as I said, I ran into the beginning of psalm 25, words that I read again while sitting in there at Starbucks but as tears continued to well in my eyes and I was now shaking my head and laughing to myself, I literally could not believe that the words I was reading on the page so directly reflected all that my heart wanted to say.

“Show me your ways, LORD, teach me your paths.
Guide me in your truth and teach me,
for you are God my Savior,
and my hope is in you all day long.”
(psalm 25:4-5)

Wait, WHAT????

I remember just sitting there stunned. Shocked. Speechless.

Those words completely capturing all that I couldn't find the words to say. Yes, SHOW ME your way, Oh Lord... guide me in YOUR truth, not mine, Your truth and teach... for yes, you alone are God my Savior and I will not stop placing my hope or my trust in You.

Wow.

So He began to show me, how we were going to proceed on this journey, how we were going to do this. My hope and my faith is in Him because He is the One who is faithful. Who will always come through for me and take care of me no matter what. The One in whom I have learned again and again that I can trust and on whom I can fully rely.

This God who gives us hearts and the grace and the strength to trust Him. Even when uncertainty is all we see.

“Faith has an object. Our faith not blind,”
but sees, fixes its eyes on the Only one who can.

So we wait in hope and in hope against hope, we will believe.

"For He who has promised is faithful."

waiting in hope, not in vain, pt. IV

CONTINUED FROM... waiting in hope, pt. III:

Him on the journey, Him in the here and now.

I just cannot even explain it all, life is so much more than having answers to all of our questions or all that is uncertain. Life is so much more, God has so much more for us than just that.

We find that it is possible to have peace even as all our questions hang in the balance. Even when we do not know what the future or next day even holds. Even when we do not know any tiny bit of what the roads look like from here. Even when we do not know how we are going to make it through.

::

I remember being in that place at the beginning of the year, New Year's Day to be exact and everything within me was not excited about the new year. I refused to accept or embrace it. I knew what 2010 held, what will this year also bring?

I wasn't ready nor did I even want to find out. I remember literally sitting at the threshold of a new year and everything within me was filled with dread.

I could not for the life of me get these first few words of The Healing Path out of my head,

“Opening our arms to a day is an act of faith.”

And I remember thinking... okay, if opening our arms to a DAY is an act of faith, then what about a YEAR??

I simply was not having it. 2010 held more life than I thought I could handle and I wasn't ready nor wanting any more.

I remember it was some time after that, I think a couple days into the new year when I was continuing to ask and wrestle and battle with God on my disdain and fear with beginning another year.

I remember saying, God, how are we going to do this?
Show me how. Tell me how.

I remember sometime in this period of time while I was at Starbucks, the first day, New Year's Day, I ran into these words, “The Lord is my shepherd...” towards the end of my time there and those words alone gave me all that I needed to feel the raging seas within begin to settle, and that reminded me, that He was still my shepherd, He would still be leading me, guiding me through it all.

It was then that I remembered that if I had known all that 2010 had in store, on January 1, 2010, I'm not sure I would have gone on this journey. I certainly wouldn't have signed up for it, but I realized, I did not know then what the next few months and year would bring. I didn't know that on January 1, 2010.

But, NOW, on the other side of it, I know far too WELL what those months and that year brought and all that a year can bring, and I was like, God, I am not really all that excited about going on this journey.

Well, it was in finding those words and being reminded that the Lord was my shepherd that I was began to experience a deep peace. I do not know what this will look like, but He will be here leading and guiding me through it all.

It was when I began to see God IN the new year
that I was able to take a step into it.

When I began to see and remember that there was not a single step of this I would have to face alone, I was able to, though still resistant, even begin to think facing it all and taking a step and trusting Him.

What happened next was a most uncanny experience.

Once again, what I happened to be reading at that point in my One Year Bible directly OH so directly intersected all that I was dealing with and wrestling through at that moment it is just not even right. I was in Hebrews at the time and the next series of verses were the start of what I have called “ladder rungs” that each played a critical role in me slowly climbing out of the hole and the pit I was in.

It was as if each verse was like a light that illuminated the path, a stepping stone and the next place on which to set my feet and that each verse was like a ladder rung that appeared as I slowly made my way out of the hole, something that I could cling to as slowly one by one, I made my ascent out of that dark place.

“But my righteous will live by faith...'

was one of the first verses that literally flew off the page and flew right into my face. I remember sitting there, tears in my eyes, everything within me began to calm as I realized again, my God who speaking to the very depths of my heart.

I wanted to know how we were going to do this, how I was going to do this, and I heard my Savior say, you will do it by faith.

You, my beloved one, will live by faith.

Not by sight.

Not by all I wished and hoped for and wanted to see in the new year so I knew how to best prepare myself for it, see any crisis or storm coming at least a mile away, know that I would be okay, I wanted to rid myself of any anxiety I had with opening my arms out to a new year.

I wanted a certainty I felt I needed,
a certainty that would make it a lot easier for me to step out into the unknown.

But, that day I heard and I figured out how I was going to do this. That this journey would continue to be one not lived by what my eyes could see, but a journey not of the feet, but of the heart, the place where only God can go with me.

A place that would require me to live and walk by faith.

Not my feeble and limited sight and understanding, but one that would place its trust and hope and security in the One who is faithful.

The One who, as Hoops said, because He is faithful, we can have faith.

A faith that we cannot conjure up or muster up on our own.

But a faith and a belief and a conviction that is only possible through and because of Him.

A faith that comes as we fix our eyes on Him.

A faith that as Hoops described Shadrach, Meshach, and Abendego as possessing,

“They were uncertain of the future, but confident in God.”

--

CONTINUED IN... waiting in hope, pt. V

waiting in hope, not in vain, pt. III

CONTINUED FROM... waiting in hope, pt. II:

But, LIFE IS SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT.

I feel judged and misunderstood a lot when it came seem like I am “okay” with my situation and being sick or not having a diagnosis or conclusive answers on my condition.

But, there is so much more to it, to this than that.

If I lived in that, if I was still, and don't get me wrong there are days and times where I am NOT okay with all of those things, and there is a time and a place to grieve and that happens in various stages and cycles and times, but the thing is, if I was or we were still hung up on that, we would have missed out on all that God had for us on this journey.

I would have missed out on the God who was there in the midst of my non-answers, doubts, fears, questions, laments, grief, and uncertainties.

I would have missed out on His power to sustain even when you have nothing and everything that you once had and all that life once looked at, had been taken away.

I would have missed out on the comfort that only His love and presence can provide when everything feels hopeless and everything within you is just reeling, wondering, where do we even go from here.

I would have missed out on the God who has allured me, spoken tenderly to me in the dryness of the deserted, created and given me life in abundance in this season, a season of gain, though outwardly a time of loss.

I would have missed out on so much of the healing and teaching and challenging and restoring and awakening God has been doing in both of our hearts through a variety of people and places and journeys and experiences.

I would have missed the God who has been with me, through all the roads that have been traveled.

I would have missed what has been my greatest gain.

I would have missed HIM.

--

CONTINUED IN... waiting in hope, pt. IV

waiting in hope, not in vain, pt. II

CONTINUED FROM... waiting in hope, pt. 1:

Anyway, as I was saying, as I was trying to figure out some of the weight of what I was feeling this morning and continuing to wrestle with some I have known I've needed to do for a while, but all of why it is so outside of my comfort zone and my deep resistance and unwillingness to face some of those things as well as what has felt like a “final embrace” relating to my story and the journey of my life the last 20 or so months, the first few words of this verse kept coming to mind, “we wait in hope..." (psalm 33:20)

As I began searching through the psalms for it, I continued to think about why those words affect me so. Why do they capture and reflect so much that is within my heart but that I have not found the words to accurately express.

I think it is because, as Hoops talked about last night, faith has an object.

When we hope or when we place our faith in the Lord, we are not submitting ourselves to “blind faith” or making this “leap” of faith into the unknown.

No, we are simply placing our trust and fixing our eyes not on ourselves, not on our situation or circumstances, but on the One who IS FAITHFUL.

The One in whom our hearts can hope. Hope and never be disappointed or put to shame.

We do not wait or hope in vain.

My hope is in the power of the One true, the living God, who is here, who is good, who is faithful, and who is powerful. Strong and mighty. Mighty to save.

The One whom alone holds the very words of life. Who with just the sound of His voice called this earth into existence, created the heavens, calms the stormy seas.

I LOVE the words... “we wait in hope...” 

For in waiting, as a people of God, waiting does not mean we just sit idly by.
Waiting is not passive, but active. Waiting requires trusting.

Trusting in the midst of uncertainty, something to which we are all called to, as Hoops said, “Uncertainty is common to us all. We all live with uncertainties...

We all live with maybes, not yets, and I don't knows...”

And that tension, as he described, that tension to which we live in, the tension of all that is uncertain in our lives, is not to be avoided or ignored, but to be embraced.

For I believe it is there we are called to die and rise again to new life. I believe it is there we are stripped away from all we once held dear, but count now as lost. I believe it is there that we discover what it truly means to be alive, what it truly means to be living, “as the master cuts the cloth and re-weaves it to His design.” (Dan Allender, Wounded Heart)

It is there, here, in the midst of uncertainty that I have found life.

More life, more peace, more joy than when “grain and wine abounds.” Life independent of and not dictated by my circumstances or all that is going on in or around me.

Life that has drawn me deeper into a love relationship with my Father and Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, a life that is so much more than anything I could have found.

As Hoops was talking last night, every single one of his words captured the journey my life has taken these last 20 months. An incredibly personal experience lived for an audience of One, and one shared with none other than the great I AM.

The great I AM we encounter when we wander in the desert. In a dry and weary land, but find that we are not alone...

Realize that there is someone providing bread for each day, someone providing manna, someone providing sweet honey from a rock,

streams of living water, streams in the desert, someone who we find is sustaining and meeting our every need in the very lands we felt would have brought our ruin.

Someone who has come. Come that we may have life.

As Hoops was talking, it spoke to so much deep within my heart and what this journey has looked like for me, words that I have never felt I could just share aloud. Talking about faith is risky for me especially now because it can sound like something overly church, over-spiritual, and something that I am just saying or regurgitating because that is what Christians are supposed to do or say.

I find it risky especially in a situation where I cannot explain why I have this faith and hope in my God, a situation where I have often felt mocked or criticized or judged or looked down upon for my faith. Or had it interpreted as being in denial. But I know it doesn't make sense to maybe some, but the important thing is, it makes sense to me. And in my relationship with God.

I don't have to make others understand, because I can't nor do I have the power to do so nor is it my responsibility. I can't explain while even though the circumstances, yes, do suck, that THIS whole thing does not suck, for my God is with me and sometimes that alone is more than enough.

Hoops' words last night gave voice to much which I have felt ashamed of sharing, simply because of how many times it has been misunderstood. Yet, words that validated and spoke to and encouraged my heart and the battle I've been in.

How it is possible to have faith in the midst of uncertainty, believe in the power and sovereignty of love of our God even when everything in life seems to be spiraling out of control and our questions continue to go unanswered, and we are surrounded by heartache on every side.

As he was talking last night, it jogged my memory to another core theme in all of this... that there is so much more to life than having the security, the clarity and the certainty we all as humans deeply crave. The assurance. Answers. The understanding of it all we all think at one time or another we need.

CONTINUED IN... waiting in hope, pt. III

waiting in hope, not in vain

Was sitting out in one of my favorite places earlier today, our back porch, and thinking about and processing a ton of things.

My thoughts kept running in my head faster than I could get them out and something put this verse again on my heart. A verse that has carried special meaning for me since I first stumbled upon it I believe early this summer, but I really could not tell you.

The days and the weeks and the months run together now, if it weren't for writing the date each day on the top of my medical log at the beginning of each day, I really wouldn't be able to tell you what day or week or month we are in. But, even that isn't really an accurate reflection of reality to me.

Days and dates are just numbers to me now.

They seem to have little to no bearing on reality. I have found myself time and time again looking at the calendar, or my new planner, the first planner and the first time I have had to use a planner or a calendar in more than a year now as I've returned to work in a different capacity.

A capacity similar to what work has resembled in the last 20 months I have been sick, but re-entering more of the team aspect of my job in attending staff meetings and office hours and having more of my time spent with students still at my house when needed, but a bit more outside of my house now, and since doctors appointments or medical things have been the majority of what my calendar consisted of, I haven't needed a planner in a while because I have reminder cards on the fridge or in my purse about upcoming appointments.

However, now having a few more things going literally since July 28th when we first began entering this new season that begin little did we know it, but again with a toothache, life has become a blur of dentist appointments, doctor appointments, more tests, more x rays, cat scans, chiropractor visits, treatment plans, discovering what is now/currently attacking my body, grief, sorrow, peace, joy, devastation, heartbreak, heartache, lament, praise.

Meetings, reconciliations, sharing tears, sharing hurts, sharing pain, sharing wounds. Victories. Crushing defeats. More answers. Less answers. More possibilities/diagnoses. Only more questions. Huge boulders, obstacles, mountains being moved. A sense of feeling alive more than ever. Encouraged. More hopeful and full of life, full of passion than I have felt in a long time.

Yet also peppered with times of crashing waves of grief. Where the feelings of abandonment, confusion, hurt, criticized, judged, misunderstood, unknown come crashing to the surface of my reality with seemingly no warning at all. So many conflicting yet simultaneous emotions. Overall feeling an energy and a life and a hope and a passion I have not felt nor had in a really long time.

I cannot describe all that has happened in my life in the last 30 days alone, but I don't have to. I know my God knows and I know that I have lived it and that it is real and that that is enough. I can't really describe it but I can say there are days when I simply do not believe it all. All the change, healing and restoration just a few short weeks can bring. All the life that was crammed into a four-week period that really has felt more like a four-month period.

All that only the hands of the Lord, the LIVING God, can do.

The One who has the power to heal and restore our sinful and broken hearts,

heal and restore wound we never felt could ever be healed.

Heal and restore and change and mend and transform our human and feeble hearts.

Make them beautiful.

The One who is making everything, making all things new.

--

CONTINUED IN...  waiting in hope, pt. II

But we have this hope...

... as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.

:: hebrews 6:19

[hope] where light meets the dark

Wow. What an incredible weekend.

Hope reaches and whispers out in the darkness,

and says,

“i love you.

i love you.

i love you ...

              
                                                                       and i am here."

- Photo courtesy of Fox's "So You Think You Can Dance"

{ live in hope }

His mercies are new every morning.

LAMENTATIONS 3:22-23

[ listen to the sound of hope that's rising ]

[ up over your horizon... ]

listen to the sound... listen to the sound...
and listen to the sound of a new beginning...

  

Phrase of the day: “Live in Hope,” a French proverb

Jam of the day: “Listen to the Sound” by Building 429

There's this feeling that always catches me off guard.

This peace that surpasses all understanding.

A peace cannot be conjured up on our own, yet is the gift from the loving hands of our Father. Who hears our every cry out to Him, listens, comforts, and provides. I was blessed by the gift of a brand new day, and reminded He is truly always making all things new.

So, I have been eying this journal for a while, had bought a few others in the last month that had more pages in them, as I go through journals now just about as fast as I go through socks these days. But, something kept bringing me back. I remember seeing it when I was shopping for graduation gifts for friends and if I could have bought them all one, I would have.

The words, “Live in Hope” on the front, with this beautiful tree on the cover are words that have played themselves over and over again in my mind.

I usually buy cheap journals now at Michael's or Hobby Lobby then craft them up in various ways and was thinking of re-creating my own and using those words, yet I realized there was something about the cover that I was drawn to. Those words and the image have reverberated in my mind time and time again, inspired and encouraged me.

So much so, I realized I had to have it and once I've written in it, I plan to keep it somewhere where I can still be reminded of those words and what they speak to me. Because my heart needs to see and hear those words, to see and hear and be reminded of the hope I have in Him no matter what life is throwing my way. That we can truly live in hope. Hope against hope, and know when we place our hope in the Lord, we will never be disappointed or put to shame. 

I want to live in hope.

Then, later as I was driving, for whatever reason, this song that has annoyed me anytime I've heard it the last month or two and immediately switched stations anytime I hear it, has now suddenly grown on me.

And, the last month or so when I've heard it on the radio, this whole time I was totally thought this was the voice of Michael Tait (former dc Talk'er) who has now joined the Newsboys, especially in the chorus but was surprised that it was a Building 429 song!

I don't know what it was about how the music and the words hit me today, particularly the chorus,yet they captured all that I was feeling and all the things that today represented. A day unlike any other this week, where I simply got to relax, go and do things that are life-giving me to, not have to be anywhere or be ready for people to come over or pick me up to help me run errands or have plans or doctor's appointments or tests or other medical stuff. A day to find relief, rest, recharge and not have to be near my phone. A day where I felt finally free. Free to just simply live and be.

Oh, listen to the sound of hope that's rising
Up over your horizon
Listen to the sound, listen to the sound
And listen to the sound of a new beginning
Oh, this is where the old is ending
Listen to the sound, listen to the sound

But my righteous will live {by faith}

"Faith helps us to live with the unanswered. Hope helps us to live with the unresolved. Trust helps us to accept... and go on with the work of living."

-- Mark Connolly

:: the bravest thing we have is hope

"Hope knows that if great trials are avoided great deeds remain undone and the possibility of growth into greatness of soul is aborted." 

:: brennan manning, abba's child: the cry of the heart for intimate belonging

"Therefore, let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess,

for He who has promised is faithful."

:: hebrews 10:23

- photo courtesy of the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater

you are my hope against hope

A verse that has been rocking my world lately,

"Some trust in chariots and some in horses,
but we trust in the name of the Lord."

:: psalm 20:7

::

"The Lord has promised good to me
His word my hope secures
He will my shield and portion be
As long as life endures...

My chains are gone
I've been set free
My God, my Savior has ransomed me
And like a flood His mercy reigns
Unending love, Amazing grace"

:: chris tomlin