It's What?

It's March 1st, that's what.

What?

I know!  How did that happen?  Was I on another planet?  (Probably.) 

I have been thinking the last few days, about several things.  One of those things is how much time I am able to waste, especially at night after the kids go to bed.  It is a talent that I have honed to perfection, and for which I could possibly win an award were such an award to exist.  Fortunately, there is no reward for such tomfoolery, in fact there is a great penalty.  There is a weight that is tied around one's waist, as it were, a giant although imaginary ball-and-chain.  A nagging voice that chants,"You could be doing something much more productive..."  A sense of self-knowledge that does not lead to self-respect.

I say these things because I realize that there is happiness, or really joy, in order and stability.  And these things have never come easy for me, at least as far as I can remember.  I think I have always been able to fool others, and even myself, but the reality of my everyday-all-around-me-disaster cannot be ignored, nor can it be hidden.  And what you cannot hide but feel that you want to hide must be dealt with before it becomes a two-headed monster that belches fire and threatens to destroy you.  That would be really unmanageable (I have no sword skills or magical powers to defeat that kind of scary beast).

I usually don't set goals for myself, because inevitably I don't achieve them.  This leads to sadness and feelings of failure and blah, blah, blah.  But, back to the thing I have been thinking about...I was thinking that I might begin by reading some Scripture each day, and learning something from it.  Reading something and reflecting, even just a little at first, on what lesson the Word of God is teaching, what good I could take from it, what one thing I could share with someone else in my life in some way during a day or week. 

You might be thinking,"Um, that sounds a lot like a goal, Christina."  Well, it isn't!  It's hope-and that's different.  In and from God, expecting, awaiting, eager. 

Romans 8:18-27

I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. The creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God. 

We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what he already has? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently. 

In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will.

Hebrews 10:19-25

Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water.  Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.  And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds.  Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.

 Emily Dickinson

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chilliest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

I could end this post there, but I wanted to say that I am feeling hopeful tonight, which is a good thing.  Won't you join me?

Comments

[Tonya Roosa]

Tina, your writing is good and i love your page. I just gave me a great idea. I told Doug that I could make us a family web page. I'd been looking at doing one for a long time and actually played around with it but never found a place to set it up for free.