Celebration

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about hope. I have, as we all have, hoped for many things in life...a husband, a job, a home, friends, children. But as of late, hope has taken on a new meaning.

I do believe that hope is the opposite of fear. And along with a black heart, I was born fearful. I am afraid that I'll say the wrong thing, bomb a teaching evaluation, lose someone I love, never have children, etc. Really, fear is draining, disgusting, and the exact way that the lurking evil one desires for me to operate. And then, it is a source of comfort. If I'm hoping for nothing, then my expectations will always be met. I'll never be dissatisfied. As long as I'm fearful, I maintain control.

My spirit has been treading some rough waters. My knuckles are white from the death grip I have on keeping control in life. The fear has taken over. What's that? Another valley to walk through? That's just par for the course. What a perfect stage I have set for Satan's attack. My sister wrote a little about hope here (long post...scroll to last paragraph). I began to look at my perspective. Who am I to think that I can determine what lies before me? If you look in the Old Testament (Read 2 Kings 22-23), stories abound about kings that turned away from the "God of their fathers" and did evil in the sight of the Lord. There were few kings who obeyed God's demands. Josiah was one of these men- he demolished altar after altar, defiled the shrines, got rid of the spiritists and idols. "Never before nor after Josiah was there a king who turned to the Lord as he did." Yet even still, "the Lord did not turn away from the heat of his fierce anger." Really? Did I really think that I was in the tiniest bit of control? That I could change the plan of the God who wrote the book of life?

So back to this idea of hope. It is far easier to continue being afraid. But I just can't. I believe that as I unclench my fingers of fear and reach out towards this hope, God will meet me in a place I hadn't dared to go.

My thoughts were grounded even more as we sang this song on Sunday:

In Christ alone my hope is found;
He is my light, my strength, my song;
This cornerstone, this solid ground,
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm.
What heights of love, what depths of peace,
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease!
My comforter, my all in all—
Here in the love of Christ I stand.

In Christ alone, Who took on flesh,
Fullness of God in helpless babe!
This gift of love and righteousness,
Scorned by the ones He came to save.
Till on that cross as Jesus died,
The wrath of God was satisfied;
For ev'ry sin on Him was laid—
Here in the death of Christ I live.

There in the ground His body lay,
Light of the world by darkness slain;
Then bursting forth in glorious day,
Up from the grave He rose again!
And as He stands in victory,
Sin's curse has lost its grip on me;
For I am His and He is mine—
Bought with the precious blood of Christ.

No guilt in life, no fear in death—
This is the pow'r of Christ in me;
From life's first cry to final breath,
Jesus commands my destiny.
No pow'r of hell, no scheme of man,
Can ever pluck me from His hand;
Till He returns or calls me home—
Here in the pow'r of Christ I'll stand.