What is hope really?
Is it the belief that though it is dark, it will be light again?
or though the weather is sour, that one day the ice will thaw
spring to usher in the warm weather, the life, the meaning?
This isn’t always true. This doesn’t always happen.
Hunger is satisfied with food. Cold stayed by warmth.
The numbness can wear them both away, but not forever.
I think when my hope is that my happiness will come I miss the point.
For some time I have been asking that things will come together, that this road would make sense.
But the only hope we know in this life is that we will need to be satisfied again.
The seasons will change though the tree may die, it is not in this change that the world turns.
It can only be short sighted. No more than desire, just yet a temporal longing.
Hope is to life, and life is to live, but we cannot live to life because everything passes.
He is not the life we live, but the life He gives us through His death – we are put to death with Him
brought to life with Him.
I cannot long escape this fact before it breaks through my world.
The jealous Lover, this Holy God, to pursue His church to the end of the world
only to be spent, only to give life – and this is the hope.
Love not that we loved Him. Hope, not that we can give.
For you have died and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ,
who is our life, is revealed, then you also will be revealed with Him in glory. – Colossians 3: 3-4