Hope Harbour

It’s an oasis of faith and believing in the impossible. It’s a place of rest for the weary. It’s a home for the discouraged. It’s the place where You can do all things through Christ and anything is possible.

I’ve been on the same corner lately—the corner where “it will never happen” and “could I be on the verge of God doing something huge” meets. It’s a terribly wonderful intersection to be at in life. There’s a part of you that believes for big things and another part that is terrified to be disappointed once again. Your dependency on God is magnified. Your contentment is tested. Everything in you becomes desperate to see what God will do.

But how often do we climb off the mountain when He doesn’t answer it the way we want. How is it that we are reminded over and over in the Bible that faith is not in what is seen but rather “the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see” (Hebrews 11:1, NLT).

Yet we can’t seem to get past it. We have to see.

And so I’ve been waiting… hoping…holding my breath that God blows the roof off of my expectations, but a little piece holds on or holds back, whatever you want to call it because I’ve been at the streets of hope and disappointed before. It’s a road that holds my prayers and tears. It is a road worn out by my footprints. Maybe yours reside there too. And I wonder if maybe I’m not fully committing everything to Him like I think I am if perhaps there is still a part of me that hopes that hope is worth it.

In all this pondering God keeps telling me that I’m not the only one—that I live in a generation that is desperate and starved for hope. I think God is teaching me to see the potential in my waiting in order to minister to others who are feeling the same way. I can’t shake that someone needs the message of hope and that I have to get it to them. I keep envisioning people locking away their hurt deep within their hearts, refusing to share their dreams or even daring to dream at all. I see souls who want to believe again but don’t know where to start. I see pieces of broken yesterdays in a graveyard of regrets.

But I also see something else. Something that is not of this world. Something that is a tiny ember of light on a dark night. I see the outstretched hands of Jesus. I see the heart of a Savior who calls us by name. I see love so deep and wide that we could never comprehend it all. After all, what better message of hope is there than the Gospel? Than the assurance that we do not and have not ever once walked alone.

HOPE is a curious thing. I came across a little phrase about it recently that moved me. It was simply put this way, “It comes from that little place in your heart that harbors hope” (Jen Lindley). I love that line and I love that place in our hearts. It’s there whether we feel it or not and I think we have to keep it engaged. We have to stir it every once in awhile so that it doesn’t go away completely. And we also need to harbor hope in the lives around us. The people in our lives are like a garden and they need to be cultivated, watered, and cared for in order to grow and flourish. We first need hope and then we need to spread hope.

I’ve probably shared these lyrics before because I love Chris Tomlin, but these are the words I seem to go to these days when I need a dose of hope. (Sovereign, Chris Tomlin)

Sovereign in my greatest joy// Sovereign in my deepest cry
With me in the dark// With me in the dawn
In Your Everlasting Arms// All the pieces of my life
From Beginning to the End// I can trust You
In Your never failing love// You work everything for good
God, whatever comes my way// I can trust You
All my hopes// All I need// Held in Your hands
All my life// All of me// Held in Your hands

I think I’d like to move to a different corner, in fact not even a corner, but a residence. I like to become a local of Hope Harbor—a place that always harbors hope. I can picture it now—somewhere by the water with lights hung all around. It’s an oasis of faith and believing in the impossible. It’s a place of rest for the weary. It’s a home for the discouraged. It’s the place where You can do all things through Christ and anything is possible (Philippians 4:13). Won’t you come with me?

-Only Hope