Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. Hebrews 11:1(KJV)
Autumn is one of my favorite times of year and October the most beautiful, at least it is to me. I stood on the deck this morning; the air was cool and the view spectacular. I never intended to go there; I was just following the color. There’s an overgrown clump of trees surrounded by brush. I don’t know if it’s beautifully wild, or wildly beautiful but the messy mix of color intrigued me. No matter. The moment was eclipsed by a memory and the striking colors dimmed; muddied by overflowing tears and an upcoming anniversary that will forever be woven into the tapestry of my beautiful Octobers.
A Grim Reality
Early last October, my husband and I were at that thicket of trees, seeing what needed to be done. It was gray, gloomy and sprinkling. I recalled that my son planned to come out that month to help tidy up that area as well as other parts of the property, but his health made it impossible. Then it hit me; he would never be out here again. Suddenly, the raindrops felt like bricks and I could hardly stand it, or stand. My husband pointed out the sun behind me. It was brilliant and beautiful, but I didn’t care. It had no impact whatsoever on the dim valley I was standing in. I just wanted to go inside.
Hope to the Rescue
I couldn’t see it until I got to the top of the hill. The treetops in the distant field were golden, striking really. All below them was a dismal, gray-brown blah. I was reminded that where I was is not all there is, and I learned some things about hope that day.
Hope doesn’t alter the pale and painful valleys of life, nor does it remove them. Hope places a gentle arm around your shoulder, speaks peace to your wounded soul and redirects your gaze; from your terrible temporary to a sublime eternity where all things are made new. For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently. Romans 8:24-25 (NIV)
How About You
Have you been side-swiped by uncertainty? 2020 has provided a boatload of opportunities to doubt, worry, fear. Perhaps you have suffered the loss of a loved one, a job, financial security, physical freedom or some combination of all those things. I’m right there with you.
If there ever was a time for hope, now is that time. Hope is an anchor for the soul; but an anchor is only as good as that to which it is moored. Systems may have failed us, God has not. This hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, and which enters the Presence behind the veil. Hebrews 6:19.
The Psalmist did a little self-talk that might be of benefit to you. It’s a good question and a good answer. Why are you cast down, O my soul? And why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; For I shall yet praise Him, The help of my countenance and my God. Psalm 43:5.
God bless you and keep you,
Roxanne
Unless otherwise noted, Scriptures taken from the New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
Pictures compliments of Pixabay Creative Commons
2018 was quite a year. I’d say bittersweet is an appropriate descriptor. My first post was a 
Life’s Lessons
I’ve asked my husband many times about his love for me. You know the questions I’m talking about, the kind that make a man want to bang his head against the wall. I found a letter on my pillow not long ago that answered my questions. Seven pages detailed his love, admiration and respect.
I have another letter, timeless and treasured. It speaks of a higher love, a greater love. This love transcends time and space and was declared long before this ‘lover of my soul’ ever spoke the words, “Let there be…” The letter is lengthy; its message deep.
I like new things. If they’re shiny, that’s even better. If red, well, that ‘is’ my signature color. So you’d think a shiny, new red kettle would make me happy. I had the perfect kettle. It was a lovely ‘blue-red’. I forgot about it one morning and burned out the water, cracking the coating inside. It was ruined. I looked for something similar but the best I could find was this ‘orangey-red’ one.
Is God good? It’s a question worth considering; and many have in recent weeks. With fires ravaging the west and hurricanes pummeling the east, our nation has been hit pretty hard. Whether you’re waist-high in water or standing near an ash heap; staring at the rubble of what once was your life is painful. And so we wonder.
I couldn’t help myself. I found this sign in my local craft store and fell in love with it. The message was cute and the stained pallet-wood was perfect for my country home. I had the ideal wall space for it and I wouldn’t have to re-place anything. It was the connection between the message and the prospective location that made me laugh out loud. I suppose the on-lookers expected to see some silly looking thing. Nope, just me and some painted wood. You see, the location in question was my laundry room.
Hadassah found herself in a precarious situation. A new edict from King Ahasuerus transformed every beautiful young maiden into a royal prospect. Hadassah would have to hide her true identity, changing her name to Esther and concealing her Jewish heritage. Each young woman would be presented to the king. One by one they came and went. But Esther found favor with the king and it was on her head that he placed the royal crown. Esther would be queen instead of Vashti. Amazing!
Words fail me as I offer this brief New Year’s greeting. I’m grateful for the opportunity to have shared some of life’s lessons with you in 2016 and for the encouragement you’ve given me. Writing has certainly been a challenge and I have learned many things.
The day was long and dismal; the haters many. Evil enjoyed its finest hour as the Savior of the World hung dying on a cross. Darkness seized the day. Mockers shouted blasphemous cruelty at the One who came to seek and save that which was lost. While gamblers parted His garments, the Son-of-Man made provision for His mother and gave eternal hope to a dying thief.
It was the third day. Morning came and the last vestige of night rolled away with the stone. The Son of God rose with power, conquering the very death that once slew Him. Women came to anoint His body for a proper burial but He wasn’t there. The tomb lay empty, housing nothing more than a linen napkin and the empty shell of grave cloths. Life and Light conquered death and darkness; and every hope once buried with Christ rose with Him. And so we live.
Most all of us have been there before. You know, that place where your ‘should-have-been’ and your ‘wish-it-was’ doesn’t line up with your ‘how-it-is’. It’s not a fun place to be but there I was. I didn’t say anything, at least not out loud but the statement was made all the same. “Lord, I don’t know how to be anymore.” I wasn’t looking for an answer. I didn’t ask a question. Silent but sure the answer came, “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you.” 
I sat alone, thinking after prayer meeting one morning. My mind wandered a bit until my eye caught the cross over the baptistery. It’s a simple cross; sanded, stained and varnished to match the rest of the wood in the church. It lends a respectful nod to the cross of long ago but lacks the rugged, brutal character of the one on which our Savior died.
My first encounter with the author was brief and interesting. I spent little more than a few minutes mingling with other conferees when Cynthia approached the group. She was warmly greeted and seemed to be known by most. I introduced myself, expecting a cursory nice-to-meet-you. Instead, she was friendly and welcoming; stating how glad she was to meet ‘me’ and how much she looked forward to our time together. It was a far cry from the pseudo-smile this newbie expected to receive.
Our 15 minute meeting turned into an hour as she instructed and encouraged me. She showed me what to remove, what corrections to make and how to paint pictures with words. Cynthia went on to talk of beauty, possibility, potential and what she envisioned for the future. It was amazing.
Hopefully Devoted 