Uppercase HOPE

In Run with the Horses Eugene Peterson says that ..."much of our hoping is really little more than wishing but genuine biblical hope acts on the conviction that God will complete the work He has begun even when appearances, especially when appearances, oppose it...that hope-determined actions participate in the future God is bringing into being...that every situation in which we find ourselves must be included in the Kingdom that we are convinced God is bringing into being."

"Hope-determined actions" that sounds like a mighty thing to me.

I just completed my Mother's Day blog and I become thoughtful whenever I consider Mother's Day. There were good ones and horrible ones for me. The good ones speak for themselves. The bad ones, let's just say God and other mothers got me through them.

HOPE got me through as well. HOPE in uppercase. If there was such a thing as super-dooper, extreme uppercase HOPE, well, that was the HOPE that got me here. HOPE with a prayer life. HOPE with spiritual weapons. Hope that testified to goodness. HOPE with soothing reassurances and dog teeth. HOPE that stuck a fork into the rump roast of despair and said, "DONE!" That was my HOPE.

My HOPE had hands and feet and swords and pitchforks. My HOPE cried for a night then got pushy. My HOPE had friends and all of them were pushy. Maybe that should be "pushy" in capital letters as well. HOPE-filed prayer saved me. It saved my son.

The HOPE I was given was a participant in the future being dictated by the Kingdom of God, as Peterson describes.

Mothers are never bystanders. We may step aside to let our children run past us as they grow but we are always in our own race. We never lay aside our parental authority to pray, "Thy Kingdom come. Thy will be done..." in the lives of our children.

I have friends I love beyond my ability to articulate just how much. There is no word picture that can do them justice. These women, mothers all, know how to burn a rump roast. They burned one of their own (I helped) and they helped me burn mine. The devil isn't eating so good this Mother's Day.

My son lives physically and spiritually.

This Mother's Day we will remember the victories won by prayer, friendship and Divine agreement...

...and by HOPE.

-Kat



Dedicated to The God of Hope. My Rock. My Friend. My Lord.

Try this for a HOPE-REWIND:
http://iamcallingshotgun.blogspot.com/2010/10/our-in-beginning-god.html