The Fight for Hope – Page 10

God is With Us

Linger in the beauty of this truth. Savor the sweetness. God is with us.

Finding Hope in the Waiting (Part 1)

I’ve done a lot of waiting in my life. In fact, I can divide my life into things I’ve waited for:

When I was a kid, waiting for Christmas and my birthday were the biggest waiting events, of course. As the years went by I waited for a boyfriend, waited for a husband, waited for a baby, waited for a cure, waited for healing, waited for answers, and I am sure there is more waiting to come.

Waiting, waiting, waiting. I should be good at it by now, right?

I stink at waiting.

I used to deal with waiting times by looking for a specific lesson in each period of waiting. I would tell myself “God is teaching me something. If I hurry up and learn it, the waiting will end.”

This formula for waiting was interwoven with another formula I lived by- a deal I made with God- the “If I do my best to live right, You will give me a good life” deal.

This formula for life worked somewhat until the waiting for a baby period of my life. When the wait reached beyond two years, I began looking for the lesson so that I could hurry up and learn it and become a mom. I was convinced that God was teaching me to be content. So here’s how the process unfolded.

I would work myself up into a state of great contentedness, and announce loudly about how content I was. After a while I would grow less content and pout and get angry and forget that I was supposed to be content. Then I would get mad because my formula wasn’t working, and, I would point out to God that He wasn’t keeping His part of the I do my best, You give me a good life deal. (Did I mention that God never actually agreed to this deal that I made up?)

Then after a while, I would go into another state of great contentedness and the cycle would go again. And again. And at the end of these cycles, my poor confused husband would say things like. “But yesterday you said you were content.” And I would throw things and yell really profound things like, “Well today I’m NOT!”

After 9 years and 2 miscarriages, I began to rethink my formula and my deal with God. Maybe something bigger was going on, something more than learning the lesson.

After one of our miscarriages, my husband very wisely pointed out (after making sure I didn’t have anything in my hands to throw), “Erin, your desire to be a mother is from God. He has given that to you, and He will put it to use in some way. It may not be through our own children. It may be through adoption, or teaching Sunday School, or being in a ministry to children, or in a way we can’t even see right now. But He will use it. It won’t be wasted.”

I believe God gave him those words, because they pierced right through my heart.

In all my formulaic-living and deal-making with God, I had forgotten that this was about more than wanting children. I had forgotten that God’s heart was toward me. That He had given this desire for His reasons. And He would bring His reasons about at just the right time.

And in those moments, when I pictured God’s tenderness toward me and His plans for me, trust began to grow. Before that moment, I trusted God with my salvation, but I didn’t really trust His heart for me in day-to-day life. Because of my deal (the one I made up), I was convinced that God was watching, waiting for me to slip up. I saw God as critiquing me instead of gazing lovingly at His child.

But when I caught a glimpse of His heart for me, my view of God changed. Instead of looking at God with my arms crossed defensively and my chin raised defiantly, prepared for His criticism, I could approach Him as a child, grasp His hand and say “I’m having trouble with this, will You help me?”

I’ve found that the times of waiting in my life have been about much more than learning the lesson. I have learned many lessons during the waiting times. But, more importantly, during the waiting I’ve learned to trust God’s heart toward me. And it makes me want to turn toward Him more and more.

I still stink at waiting, and I have been known to still throw an item or two, but I am finding that the more I focus on God’s love toward me, and trust His heart toward me, the more I get to know Him during the waiting times. And knowing Him is the deepest desire of my heart.

May the God of all hope and comfort draw you close during your waiting times too.

Fighting For Hope During Difficult Times

Ever felt like you’ve lost your footing in your own life? Like you just want to stop the world, catch your breath, have a complete thought or two – with a mocha latte, of course.

Yeah, me too.

At our house, I am discovering that having 3 pre-teens is almost as intense as having 3 toddlers, although the intensity is emotional instead of physical. We are experiencing a constant flow of hurt feelings, roller-coaster emotions, and confusion. And that “we” definitely includes me.

When I lose my footing, I tend to react. Reacting doesn’t restore relationships, it doesn’t build bridges. It’s more like a tornado tearing through a town.

So today I slowed down with a mocha latte and discovered this beautiful song, River God, by Nicole Nordeman. The words reminded me that God works through difficult times to shape us.

I hope it will strengthen you as you fight for hope today.

When It Feels Like the Darkness Is Winning

As I’ve watched the news, as I’ve lived in my own shoes, as I’ve walked beside friends, this question keeps coming:

Where is hope?

Where is hope when the world is going crazy, when things spin out of control, when it feels like the darkness is going to suffocate all good out of existence?

Current world events will cause us to ask this question. An honest look in the mirror will as well. In this broken world we struggle with addictions. We have loved ones caught in the snare of pornography, alcoholism, or in the cycles of anxiety and depression.

And many days it seems the darkness is winning. With each stumble, each setback, the darkness seems to close in, mocking our desperate prayers for hope, for deliverance, for change.

On these days, where is hope?

Hope doesn’t swoop in like Superman to save the day. It starts as a spark that grows over time.

I am a big fan of time.

I remember when the 10:00 news report was followed by the National Anthem and that ended the news for the day. In fact, it ended all television programming until early the next morning.

Hours of wonderful silence followed.

And that silence that gave people time. Time to think, to cool off, to rest. Time to allow ideas and thoughts to marinate. Time for people to figure out what they really thought about issues.

When it feel like the darkness is winning we tend to react, and more often than not, fear and anger win the day. Fear and anger drive out hope and replace it with hopelessness. “Hopelessness produces a refusal to see the potential of a new, bright, and good day… ” (page 86, The Healing Path) When fear and anger are driving, and hopelessness is thriving, we aren’t at our best.

Time also gives a chance for hope to grow.

Not a cross-your-fingers-and-hope-for-the-best kind of hope, but a hope that “enables us to walk bravely into the future, confident things can be better than they are today.” (The Healing Path, Dan B. Allender)

And we need hope because we are raising children who will be the next leaders, voters, the next people of this world. Our kids need to see us fighting for hope because hope is so very important. Hope allows us to be courageous and compassionate and I believe that is the kind of people our world needs.

Hope clings to the belief that this is not the end. God will work. Good will come from this. “The quintessential cry of hope is found in the remark Joseph made after experiencing devastating physical, sexual, and emotional abuse: “God turned into good what you meant for evil.” (Genesis 50:20, NLT)” (The Healing Path)

I believe that the more we fight for hope, the more we will see sparks of hope grow into a flame. Fighting for hope will help us communicate to each other with respect, even those who are on opposing sides of an issue.

So instead of shouting across the canyon at the spouse who is struggling with an addiction, or at the person whose lifestyle looks different from ours, or at people who drink out of red cups at Christmas, or at people who say open the borders, or close the borders….

Fighting for hope will enable us to sit down together, listen to each other, wade through the fear and anger, and find an answer for a new, bright, and good day.

Keep fighting for hope, dear friend. It is important for our lives, our world and our future.

Celebrating Life

The 31 day writing challenge was a wonderful experience. I wrote about topics near and dear to my heart, and I met new friends from all over the world.

I must have lived in a writer’s fog for the entire month, because I emerged from the 31 day writing challenge on November 1, ready to resume “normal” life and here is what I found:

Overflowing laundry baskets, partially eaten hot pockets on paper plates scattered around the house (Did I feed my children vegetables even once in the last 31 days?), and project piles. I could tell where the 4th grader’s cereal box book report was created, where the 6th grader’s leaf collection was pieced together, and where I sat to scribble random thoughts at random times. And I’m pretty sure something waved at me from the bottom drawer of my fridge.

But all of this faded into the background when my 9 year old said, “Can we plan my birthday party now?”

Birthday parties are serious business at our house.

I LOVE birthdays. They are the only days in your life when people say “You’re alive! Let’s celebrate!”

You don’t have to do anything brilliant or creative or clever. You just have to be breathing.

Throwing a birthday party is a fun way I can tell my children ” I’m so glad you are here and I’m so glad I get to be your mommy!”

And in their world filled with expectations from school and chore lists from home, and questions like

“Are you ready yet?”

“Are you finished yet?”

“Come on, we need to go!”

They need a day to celebrate.

We’ve done princess birthdays,

pirate birthdays, and superhero birthdays. I’ve loved every one of them.

I also love my children’s birthdays because they remind me of God’s faithfulness. I spent a long time wondering if I would ever have children. Ten years, in fact, which feels like forever when you don’t know if the waiting will ever end. (Be sure to read Finding Hope in the Waiting .)

And this birthday felt important. Maybe it’s because Maggie is my middle child, the one who rarely finishes a sentence or makes a choice because she is sandwiched between two siblings who fully believe they can read her mind. Or maybe it’s because she’s at a point where she is questioning her own worth. I want to wrap her in my arms and say You are loved! You are not alone! You have purpose! I want to pour that truth into the depths of her heart.

So we celebrated Maggie’s double digit day in a big way.

When she hugged me at the end of the day and mumbled sleepily, “This was my best tenth birthday ever.” I knew we had celebrated well.

I’ve picked up all the paper plates with remnants of food (I think), and the project piles are gone. I’m still working up my courage to tackle the creature in the bottom of my refrigerator. But these things really are secondary, because 10 year old birthdays only come around once. Celebrating life is important.

I hope you find a way to make your day special, dear friend, for you, too, are worth celebrating.

You are loved. You are not alone. You have purpose.

The Writing Life: Toggling Between Worlds

My husband walked in and gave me a strange look.

“Have you been sitting there this whole time?”

It’s not that he has anything against me sitting. Especially in my comfy reading chair surrounded by a stack of books, papers, and a cup of coffee. It’s just unusual for me to stay in one place for very long.

I raised my coffee cup to my lips to give me a few seconds to think of an answer. My coffee was hot when I sat down, but now it was ice-cold.

“It depends on your definition of ‘sitting there’.” I replied with a smile.

My bottom had been firmly planted in that chair, but I had not just been “sitting there.”

During that time I rescued 3 of my characters who were trapped on the side of a mountain.

I also researched how to write a sword fighting scene, since one of my characters was about to face off with an enemy, and I’ve never held a sword in my life.

“Sitting there” sounds so passive, so un-creative. I’d been toggling, and toggling is an action verb.

To “toggle” is to switch from one setting to another. For me, and probably any other fiction writer, it is the act of switching from one world to another.

I’ve been toggling for months now as I’ve worked on this story. Many days I feel like I have one foot in reality and the other foot in the world I’ve created. I try to limit my toggling to my writing time, but sometimes problems and solutions toggle between the worlds as well.

The world I’ve created is beautiful. Hopeland is a combination of my favorite places: Mississippi, the Smokey mountains, and Ukraine. But this beautiful world has a problem. Hopeland is being destroyed and its characters must fight for hope in order to defeat the forces of evil. These characters aren’t strong or powerful, and victory feels impossible.

This started out as an adventure story for my children, but it has grown into so much more.

It is a letter to my younger self about what is really worth pursuing.

It is a guide for my children as they walk through this life.

It is a call for all who read it to fight for hope in spite of circumstances.

It is a fleshing out of my current favorite statement by Dan Allender: “Hope is by far one of the most dangerous commitments we make in life.” and shows that hope is essential to life, and worth every effort to fight for, especially when the outcome seems uncertain.

When I look around at this world, I see the need for hope. I see a generation of children who need to know how to fight for hope, how to have courage to do the right thing at the right time. They need to experience the strength hope gives us to fight the battles in our lives. Through this story, I want to show my children (and other readers) what the fight for hope looks like by describing how a character their age courageously fights. And possibly, when the battle begins for them, they will remember their friends in Hopeland and find the courage to fight for hope in this world.

This will definitely involve many more cold coffee moments as I toggle between worlds in my comfy chair.

Hope In the Pit

At one time or another, we’ve all been in the pit.

There are different ways we end up there, but the feelings are the same. Trapped. Helpless. Stuck.

Maybe you allowed your anger to run freely and the words flew out before you could stop them. You know there is no way to take them back or to undo the wounds you’ve caused.

Maybe you are 15, pregnant and unsure about what the future holds. You were just having fun. You never planned on this happening and now you are scared, alone, and afraid.

Shame runs over, hot and scalding, as you close the website. You know, the one you promised to never go to again. You mean it every time you promise, and yet, in a moment of weakness, you run back to the site and the allure of the pictures. You know you’ll never forget the images you’ve seen there and, to be honest, sometimes you call them up in your mind and feel the excitement all over again. But after the rush of excitement, overwhelming shame takes its place.

Is there a way out? Is there help for us, deep in the pit? Dare we even ask for help when, by our own choices and actions, we’ve dug the hole we are currently sitting in?

We know God is powerful and He can help us, but will He help us when we are the reason we are in the pit?

If He didn’t help, none of us would have hope. We would stay stuck and helpless forever.

He doesn’t just pick us out of the pit, dust us off, fluff our hair and tell us to get back to life, the way we might do to a child who has skinned their knee. God loves us too much to ignore the darkness inside of us that led us to the pit in the first place. He pours His love on us as he deals with us though a painful process that involves these steps: Confrontation. Confession. Repentance. Forgiveness. Through this process, He opens our eyes to the darkness inside our hearts, shows us our deep need of Him, and lavishly forgives us.

The life of David offers us an example of how God deals with us in the pit in 1 Samuel 11:2-12:24.

David was described as being a man after God’s own heart, and yet he dug himself into a deep, dark pit during the whole Bathsheba scandal. If you haven’t read it, the short version is that David saw Bathsheba’s beauty, slept with her, and had her husband (one of his own soldiers) killed in battle when she became pregnant. Then he brought her over to the palace to be his wife. The secrecy, deception, betrayal, and abuse of power here is horrendous.

And God saw every move David made.

Did God stop loving David? No. He loved him too much to let him keep these horrible actions hidden. He loved David enough to bring these actions into the light where they could be dealt with, where forgiveness could be given, and David’s relationship with God could be restored. He sent Nathan to confront David. And once David admitted to his wrong, the process continued.

The Psalms that David wrote during this time describe this progression.

In Psalm 38, David writes about the physical effects of his sin. He is overwhelmed by guilt and calls out to God for help.

Because of your wrath there is no health in my body;
there is no soundness in my bones because of my sin.
My guilt has overwhelmed me
like a burden too heavy to bear.

In Psalm 51, David calls out for God’s forgiveness. He asks to be cleansed and restored. He doesn’t make excuses for his actions. He owns up to them. This is repentance.

Have mercy on me, O God,
    according to your unfailing love;
according to your great compassion
    blot out my transgressions.
Wash away all my iniquity
    and cleanse me from my sin.

For I know my transgressions,
and my sin is always before me.

In Psalm 103, David feels God’s forgiveness, and feels restored to fellowship with God. The whole tone of this Psalm is praise. David knows he has been forgiven.

Praise the Lord, my soul;
    all my inmost being, praise his holy name.
Praise the Lord, my soul,
    and forget not all his benefits—
who forgives all your sins
    and heals all your diseases,
who redeems your life from the pit
    and crowns you with love and compassion,
who satisfies your desires with good things
    so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.

Just as God loved David too much to let his actions stay hidden, He will also bring our dark deeds into the light in order to get us out of the pit.

Confrontation. Confession. Repentance. Forgiveness.

Forgiveness does not erase the consequences of our actions. There is a sowing and reaping effect in our lives. If we do things that eat holes in our soul, then we will have a soul filled with holes and a distant relationship with God. Thankfully, our story does not end there. There is hope because there is grace. Beautiful, messy grace.

David received this messy grace. God named the consequences David would have to endure. “You did it in secret, but I will do this thing in broad daylight before all Israel.” As a result of David’s actions, there was tragedy, humiliation, and shame in his family for years to come. Yet there were also blessings in David’s life. Messy grace.

We also have access to this messy grace.

God’s messy grace slides in and around the consequences and fills up the holes in our soul, breathing life in the midst of heartache.

Because of God’s messy grace we take steps to repair broken relationships.

Because of God’s messy grace we rejoice over a new life in spite of the circumstances.

Because of God’s messy grace we recognize our brokenness and seek help.

Because of God’s messy grace, there is hope, and a way out of the pit.

For with the Lord there is steadfast love, and with Him is plentiful redemption.” Psalm 130:7

The Chapter I Didn’t Want In my Story

Has the story of your life ever taken an unexpected turn and left you sitting in the dark, wondering what happened?

There are chapters in the story of each of our lives that we didn’t ask for, and if given a choice we would have said “No thank you,” for who in their right mind would say yes to trauma, suffering or disaster?

The chapter I didn’t want in my story is my family’s journey with Epilepsy.

Our journey began on a Saturday afternoon in November, 2006. It had been an ordinary day, filled with caring for Anderson, who was 3, and Maggie who had just turned 1. The colorful leaves and the crisp breeze drifting through my open windows made the walls of our home seem stifling. I bundled everyone up to go outside. It was a slow process. I was very pregnant with Ellen, waddling around getting everyone’s socks and shoes together. Then Maggie’s seizure hit and suddenly I was in ambulance, sirens blaring, wondering what happened to my normal day.

Maggie continued to have seizures every few months, and we had no idea what was causing them. When Ellen was 18 months old, she began having seizures as well. Another chapter I didn’t want in my story.

My sweet girls in the middle of this unexpected journey.

After a million questions, hours of research, and keeping a detailed journal, we figured out that heat, internal or external, was the trigger for their seizures. We also found a medication combination that worked well. Ellen has been seizure free for 4 years, and Maggie has been seizure free for 3 years. They don’t remember ever having seizures. It’s such a twist of irony that the biggest trauma I’ve experienced thus far as a parent is non-existent to my children.

But I’m so glad.I don’t want them controlled by fear. Fear eats away at hope. And at 8 and 9 years old, there is a lot to be hopeful about.

I did not feel hopeful in those early years, filled with uncertainty. The triplets of destruction – anger, fear, and despair – had a hold on me for a while.

Though things have settled, our journey hits me full force at the beginning of each school year when I meet with the girls’ teachers. I hope we never have an episode at school, but if it does happen, I want the adults caring for my girls to be as prepared as possible. And I realize that I may also be preparing them to help another child down the road.

I still have days when I wish we weren’t on this journey. I have days when my mind goes too far into the what ifs. The fight for hope keeps me balanced on those days. The fight for hope keeps my focus on what I CAN do.

My goal through this journey has been to allow my children to have as normal a childhood as possible and still be safe. We have learned to modify our activities. We go to the beach in October instead of the heat of summer. We play outside in spring and fall as much as possible. The girls are aware of their limitations, but I never want them to be defined by their limitations.

I want to travel this road well. Although they may not remember having seizures, one day my children may be right where I am, raising children who have seizures. I want to be able to offer them hope for their journey.

I don’t understand exactly how, but God has worked through this unwanted chapter in my life. Over the years, He has woven beauty into the sorrow, reaching places in my heart that would have otherwise gone untouched and unchanged. He has used this journey to build my “fighting for hope” muscles. And I need those muscles to experience joy in the unwanted chapters of my life.

#thefightforhope

The Hope We Were Made For And the Hope We Settle For

Hope seems abstract, but we use, or refuse to use it, every day.

We study for tests in hopes of making a good grade. We make plans, hopeful that they will take place. We give up on a goal, convinced that we are a hopeless failure.

We involve hope in our lives because we were created by the God of hope. We were wired for hope – His hope – before our world became broken. As a result, our hearts long for things to be whole, the way they were meant to be.

“Hope is the quiet, sometimes incessant call to dream for the future. The present moment is not enough to satisfy our souls completely. No matter how good or bad, the now leaves us hungering for more. And our insatiable quest for more is the root system of biblical hope.” (The Healing Path)

And though this hope is filled with longing, it is steady, because it is rooted in the person and character of God.

When we see injustice, when we feel let down in relationships, Biblical hope presents us with two simultaneous truths. It assures us that this is not the way things were meant to be, and reassures us that it is still worth the effort to get as close as possible to the ideal.

“This type of hope enables us to walk bravely into the future, confident things can be better than they are today.” (The Healing Path)

The Reformation Study Bible describes hope in these words: “Hope is certain; it is a ‘sure and steadfast anchor of the soul.’ Hope calls us to be patient. Hope gives us strength and confidence for running the race, fighting the good fight, and enduring the tribulations that continue in this life.”

Can you hear the battle cry resounding out of that definition? Words like strength, confidence, and endurance – tools that we need to fight for hope in this broken world.

If this type of hope gives us this, why would we settle for anything less?

But we do. We settle for a type of hope that fits this description: the feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best. (dictionary.com) We settle for a cross- your- fingers- and -hope-for-the -best scenario.

This hope hinges on circumstances, and when it fails it drops like lead, dragging us into emotional darkness. This hope is a counterfeit of the hope we were made for. It has similarities, but no lasting value.

“Hope cannot be killed, not ever, but it can be drugged numb and sleepy. Even then it will still function, but in a more material and simplistic manner akin to wishing to win the lottery or anticipating the purchase of a new car.” (The Healing Path)

There is no real, lasting hope without our real and lasting God. He created us to live this adventure called life using His definition of hope. His character is the basis of this hope, so to experience this hope we must know Him. We must know Him based on who He says He is, not based on what we’ve been told about Him or how we’ve defined Him.

We come face to face with Him in His Word. The pages of the Bible are filled with His messages, so that we can know who He is, and who we are in relation to Him.

I realize that the Bible is used by many to act either as a band aid (“Read this verse and get a better attitude”) or a truth stick to bash anyone who has an opposing view. If this has been your experience, dear friend, I am so sorry. God gave us the Bible to tenderly bring our hearts to Him. The Bible is not a weapon to use on each other. It is a weapon to use against darkness, but never to use against those searching to step out of the darkness into His light. In the pages of the Bible we discover that we are deeply loved by God.

In Zephaniah 3:17, God looks at us tenderly, singing songs of joy over us. This verse reminds me of the way we look at our children. When they are born we are overwhelmed with love for them. They have done nothing to deserve that love, and yet we lavish it on them. We look at them in wonder, we sing lullabies over them, and we want the very best for them. Our love for our children is a dim reflection of God’s lavish love for us.

This is the hope we were made for. Hope that does not waver with circumstances but remains as steady as His love for us. This is hope worth fighting for.

Words of Hope

This song brings hope into the depths of my weary heart. I hope it encourages you today!