Hope, always

“If hope is real, then I want to see it.  If hope is thing, then I want to deal it. If hope is a seed, then I want to plant it.  If hope is a way, I want to walk it. If Hope is person, I want to embrace him.

Then I pause to think.  Perhaps because I think about it, maybe I already have?  Maybe I can, even, more.

Always.
Always, more, Hope. Because that’s where He always leads.”

Always, Hope.

I wanted to become a journalist since I was young.  (That and a teacher previously, as many young girls start to dream after  watching the kind souls that teach them. ) But writing, “breaking news”, and sharing stories worth noting was my greatest ‘desire’, apart part from loving (and therefore, serving) God.  

That desire was laid upon the altar- unexpectedly, voluntarily, as a byproduct of surrendered prayers- and it went up in flames.   

Or did it?

After a memorable visit to a friend’s Wednesday night (super cool and real, by the way) youth group the next city over, I found myself suddenly knowing that I needed to go to Bible college.   This was about five weeks before upcoming high school graduation, and a well after my decisions to college, a scholarship and awaiting opportunity and connection. 

All I could attribute it to was the time we all spent on the floor of the chapel, praying.  I was face down, in my hand made bell bottoms, a hippie redux of sorts, only the 90’s version.  I  was trying to put out if my mind the young man I was interested in, a fellow “hippie” I had met on a missions trip a few of years prior.   I prayed with all of my might, as much as I could at the time, laying both myself and my dreams on the altar.  

Well God in His wisdom, took me up on the offer.  I wanted to go to Bible college, almost completely out of the blue, and all I could blame it on was that surrendered  prayer.   

It’s interesting looking back , because I knew that I could serve God in journalism.  It did t have to be either or.  But I didn’t know then what or how it would need to look.   I didn’t  know that what I would need to do would look the exact opposite,  yet somehow still hit the mark.  The heart of what I dreamed, the heart of what I wanted, without  all of the extra stuff.  

I skipped out on my communications degree and joined the ranks of servanthood at a college full of training ministers and hopeful pastors and oversea missionaries and loving children’s workers.   

I fit not one mold in particular, but looking back, have perhaps dabbled  in a bit of all of them.  

Yes, the “dream” of becoming a journalist smoldered on the altar for a year as I took time to so end “a year in the Son”, as they called it.   

At a chapel where the speaker spoke on the life of Mary and her willingness to do and be what God said, I stayed behind and prayed.  I remember exact row of chairs that I sat in almost if not practically.  End of the aisle, more towards the back, but not completely. On the left side.  I sat, staring down at my long- skirted lap, my open hands, a pile of books and Bible probably on my lap.   I remember being overcome, and with upturned hands  echoing Mary’s prayer.  

“Be it unto me according to Your Word.” 

I didn’t even know what His Word was, exactly, at the time.  I probably still don’t in so many ways.   But I said it, and I meant it as best that I could.   

A few weeks later, I unsurprisingly had a long, slow and yet sudden change of heart.   I wouldn’t return to the scholarship that waited for me.  I wouldn’t pursue a degree in journalism.   My friends cheered. I had no idea what I might become, but I was going to follow Him. I would stay, here at Bible college, and become whatever God wanted. 

What, I still don’t know exactly.  But, hopefully mostly His.  

Yes, I’m a wife, a mom, a writer.  A friend, daughter, sister, neighbor. I’m a bit of a coach and a volunteer, and can be found teaching in short bursts, too.  I am a pray-er.  A singer, though slight off key.  An encourager.  A child of God.  

Yes, I hope, I’m most of all, His.  Broken, chipped, blessedly, meandering even at times, but still His.  I’m a runner, though not always in the right direction.   I’m a rester, a lover, occasionally a fighter, and sometimes a wrestler.   

But the consistent thing is, yes, His.  

I decided a long long time ago that I would follow Jesus.  Even when I got a little lost or mixed up, He never forgot it, my broken promise. He never gave up.   Even when I didn’t know that to do or how to get where He was going, He never gave up on me.  And He never will.   

You, too. 

He doesn’t care where you’ve been or what you’ve done.  “What, now?” is as Jesus His question.  What next, He asks.  

“Together?” He questions, arm outstretched to grab yours.  

What did you always want to be? It’s not too late, not really. Not if you’re following the heart that was behind it. It might look different but it probably is still waiting for you to walk in it. It might fit now, “just right.”

I recently saw a post where a friend quoted me. “As long as there is breath, there is hope.”  I couldn’t remember saying it exactly, and I don’t know if I copied it or said it exactly like that.  

But I thought, “that’s it.” 

As long as there’s breath, there is hope.   And instead of telling terrible, breaking news stories, I have wanted my whole life to tell good ones.   Good ones, true ones, filled with Hope.  That are right and beautiful, even if they’re hard.  Collected on hard wooden floors, or in soft, unsure chairs of waiting. All gathered together in places of surrender.  

Those are the ones are worth telling.  Worth listening to, even if it messes up your plans.  And I want to be here to help tell them.  Yours, mine, all of ours, common threads, with uncommon Hope.

A journalist in the trenches, with one ear to heaven and one ear to the earth.   Bringing breaking news of encouragement, not ones t riddled with fear or discouragement.

Thank God I’m not  a journalist.  Not “theirs” anyway.   Because Hope doesn’t sell big or catch a flashy headline as much as fear might appear to.  But it’s ironic because isn’t Hope what we really crave? Isn’t good news what every soul needs.  It is. So it’s what I want to lead with.   

The truth is, if we’re really following Christ- either in the marketplace or out of it- that’s what we’ll lead with too. 

 

If hope is real, then I want to see it. 

If hope is thing, then I want to deal it 

If hope is a seed, I want to plant it  

If hope is a way, I want to walk it  

If Hope is person, I want to embrace him.

Then I pause to think. 

Perhaps because I think about it, maybe I already have? 

And maybe I can, even more, too. 

Always. 

Because that’s where He always leads.     

Hope, always.

Sure, I’ll be a Hope dealer. A journalist of sort. Different, but necessary. Because He is, our Hope in glory, of all that is good.   He lives, forever in, and invites us on  a journey of eternal hope, forever with Him.

That’s “breaking news.” The sort that’ll make you whole.