This Hope

"...be prepared to give an answer for the hope you have, but always with gentleness and respect." // 1 Peter 3:15

I am absolutely paralyzed by this blog, friends. It's really very strange. I love words and well-written sentences and the way those things allow us to express thoughts and emotions that can be used to inspire, encourage, and love others. I write pretty much every day. It helps me process. And the thought of writing not just in a journal but in a public space is a seed that's always tried to sprout in my heart and mind. But every time I sit down to write here, it's like my fingers will. not. let me push "publish."

So why do I keep trying, you ask? Good question. The simple solution is that I just stop trying, move on, and find another hobby that doesn't scare me. I don't know, y'all. I wish I could. But I keep coming back because I think this is one of those things that's actually good scary. Exciting scary, wonderful scary, hopeful scary.

I keep coming back because I'm hopeful that this little blog will offer just that: hope. Maybe a little, or maybe a lot. But when it comes to hope, any amount will do. If you're looking for a perfect girl with all the right answers; I'm not your girl, and this is not the place. But if you're looking for hope, well, I've got some to share.

What I know to be true is that Jesus is hope.

This month marks 48 months that we have been waiting, praying, and hoping for a baby. It's our story, but even still, it often takes me by surprise. I recently heard the fertility journey described as "an endless cycle of grief and hope." Such a perfect way to put it.

Yes, the grief is always there. But so is the hope. And if I'm being honest, it kind of makes me laugh. You've probably heard it said that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over but expecting different results. That's kind of how I feel when hope springs up each month - a little insane! I can't tell you how many times I've said to Jake, "hope is so weird." It's like flowers that push their way through the cracks in the sidewalk even though they've been trampled a million times before. One might die, and you might think none will ever pop up again because you can't see any at the surface right then and there. But there is always another seed down in the dirt, taking root and preparing to shoot up through another crack and bloom when you least expect it.

This hope isn't the I-hope-I-make-it-to-Chick-fil-A-before-breakfast-is-over kind of hope. This hope is the kind that sustains life, holds together shattered hearts, and inspires bravery and boldness. This hope is relentless. Much like it's Maker.

No earthly person, place, or thing could provide this hope because nothing on earth is perfect or permanent. This hope must be rooted in the soil of eternity. This hope doesn't mean that all is right and well and good in your world or the world, but it means that all is right and well and good in your soul.

This is the hope that Jesus offers. It's the whole reason He lived and died and lives.

"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit." // Romans 15:13

If I can be really honest for a minute... without this hope, I don't know that I could have made it through these last 48 months. I mean, I would probably still be living and breathing and functioning. But I would be bitter and angry and the keeper of the hardest heart. Thank God for hope.

I have joy because I know that I was created by an all-loving, all-knowing, and all-powerful God who sent Jesus to reunite Creator and creation.

I have peace because I know that God loves me simply because He made me and I am His. Not because of what I can or can't do, have or haven't done, will or won't do.

And I have hope because I know God is an infinite God who is always working and weaving together an infinite number of details for my best. But not just my best or Jake's best or our baby's best - but the best for all of creation. That's the kind of best I want to be a part of.

These things are true for me and for you.

This hope is the most powerful force in the world, and it's also the most accessible. Thank God for this weird and wonderful hope.