Hope

Posted Mar 3, 02:02 PM by Kay Camenisch

Hope is an interesting thing. When we have it, life looks bright; when we are without, life seems bleak. As important as it is to our sense of well-being, it is difficult to quantify. In spite of its effect on us, unlike the dollars in our pocket, we’re rarely aware of how plenteous our hope is—except when we’re full and running over with hope, or when the well is running dry, and we can’t seem to pump it up no matter how hard we try. If we are somewhere in the middle, we don’t even think about it.

If we had a hope-o-meter and we kept track of our hope as consistently as we watch the temperature on our outdoor thermometers, I think we’d learn a lot about ourselves. And I think we’d be surprised at what we’d find.

My hope is in the Lord Who made the heavens and the earth. Lately I’ve been so blessed that my hope is full and overflowing. God has been opening doors for the publishing of Uprooting Anger so regularly and consistently that I feel like a spectator watching Him at work. I’m full of hope and watching with eager expectation to see what will happen next.

And yet, I’ve realized that occasionally my hope has dipped. When God has acted differently than I expected—even when the outcome was positive—my cup didn’t overflow quite so freely. Oh, I told myself that God was good all the time and that I could trust Him, but I had to remind myself. It wasn’t as automatic.

That’s not good news. That tells me that my hope can be shaken by my circumstances. If my hope is firmly planted in an unchanging God, the needle won’t fluctuate with changing situations. It will be steady.

While musing about this realization and the true nature of my hope, I was interested to also observe my great anticipation—Do I have to use the word hope?—of Spring. I love Spring. I watch the daffodils outside my window as the stems stretch upward and swell with bloom. I note the arrival of the first robins, and the wren singing outside our window every morning.

As we’ve traveled this week I was alert for signs of Spring. In North Carolina I saw my first fully open daffodils. In South Carolina I saw trees with fresh spring reds and greens on the tips of their out-stretched arms. In South Georgia, the grass was green. Hope is rising. Spring is on the way.

But, how does that fit with “my hope is in the Lord?” It sounds like my hope is in spring. What percentage of my hope is seasonal, rising with new growth, longer days, and warmer weather? The heart is deceptive above all things. Do I think my hope is in the Lord only because I know the right answer? Do I parrot back what I’ve read in the Bible and sung in church without it having substance in my life?

Could be, and there is likely some reality to it. I’ve always enjoyed Spring and I look forward to it with anticipation. However, I hope/trust that there is some truth in the statement that my hope is in the Lord. Indeed, He is the maker of the earth, the creator of Spring as well as of Summer and Winter. He made the seasons and has a purpose for each.

Spring is a gift from God, a gift of beauty and new growth, yes, but of much more too. Emerging greens in grass and trees remind us that God breathes life and color into drabness. Flowers pushing upwards in the snow demonstrate endurance and perseverance in nature, encouraging us to hang in there. Birds returning to build nests and lay eggs illustrate God’s plan and provision for new life and for enduring generations.

Even as nature has seasons, and each has its purpose, we experience seasons in our lives. We go through times when life is harsh and bleak, seemingly without hope of improvement. As we see the spring emerging in nature, it is a reminder that God is faithful. He does not leave us or forsake us. Even as the barren trees put forth new leaves, if we keep our hope in Him, we too will emerge from the winter with evidence that others can see, evidence of God’s faithfulness in our lives.

When I see the smiles of the yellow daffodils, do I hope in Spring, or in the God who created Spring? I don’t know. What I do know is that writing this has increased my hope and joy in the Lord Who makes all things new. I hope it has done the same for you—and that you have a happy and a hopeful Spring!