Hope In The dark

My gigantic clock ticks relentlessly on the far wall and the half a dozen or so night lights cast peculiar shadows around my house. It's that time between not night and not yet morning. Waves of restlessness and unwanted discomfort surge through my body and the art of “being still’ forces itself upon my aching frame once more. Silent pleas tumble from my lips and for the umpteenth time I find myself longing for a break in this unwelcome cycle. 

I wait in the dark, expectant for answers to the many requests I have made. Will today be the day? What if it isn't? I can barely bring myself to ponder such a thing. Hope is all I have and I will not let it slip away so frivolously. Hope has been my anchor and my sure foundation and whenever I have found myself in a trial deeper than I can humanly bare, my heart clings to the promises planted there by the author and perfecter of my faith. He sees what I cannot and stirs my soul to trust Him even in my struggle. What kind of a Saviour would He be if I was unable to lean in and surrender all my earthly knowledge of my trial. I see so little and yet in these moments, it is consuming.

Turning my thoughts to the Holy Scriptures, verses, inscribed long ago on the walls of my heart, echo through the ages and I am comforted once more by their humble truths and assurance that someone much bigger than me is at the helm. Deep truths saturate my soul and the knowledge of the One who has never failed or forsaken me brings peace and balance back into focus. 

I may be starting my day with lack of sleep and a body that has more war wounds than I would like, but God promises me that, “in quietness and trust, He shall be my strength". (Isaiah 30:15)

So, here in the dark, still hurting, still tired, the only thing that has changed is my focus and hope. No longer resisting the pain, I sink deeper into the truth of who He is and I know that I won't be in this place for a single moment longer than absolutely necessary.