HOPE transforms

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But the eyes of the Lord are on those who fear him, on those whose hope is in his unfailing love.  Psalm 33:18

Gearing up for a new year is like iron man suiting up for the next mission.  We know we’ll be hit, knocked down, and fully engaged in combat…though probably with the calendar.  With schedules.  Torn apart by bad choices.  We’ll be beat up by a host of self-criticisms.  Inevitable is the scenario of treading hard and fast for oxygen’s sake.  We’ll undoubtedly forget something paramount.  We’ll lose lots of sleep.  And this won’t be the year that we see the bottom of the laundry hamper. Time will whirl us weary.

It’s the season for suiting up!

The children grow holes right into their footsies and it happened in the blink.  That state between staring at them wide-eyed and wonder-filled at who they are right now and grasping grasping for them as they fleet fleet fleet right out of the house and there’s a knot so big inside you because you can take the batteries out of every clock, but the world spins us round hard and fast without fail.  Every revolution leaves a hindsight of change. Change we can only substantiate as occurring in the blink.

Was I wholeheartedly present this year?

Was I deliberate with my gift, mama’s adoration?

It happened so fast.  We’ve made another revolution and did I laugh with them enough, forgetting the silly to-do list?

When they fall asleep staring at shadows of stuffed bears and baby dolls, do they remember me liking them the last few hours? Because it isn’t enough for me to love them.

How often did I smile?

Because I can escape to the restroom when the walls seem to be caving and the quick glance tells me I’m not doing it enough.  

And the holes there in the jammies, where the toes poke through, the ones they’ve worn every other night since 70 degrees turned to 69.  The ones that seem a blur when I watch them wrap all 5 dining chairs in yarn, running about like untamed horses.  The ones I have pictures of, all 3 matching, last Christmas Eve when they fell into deep sleep in their carseats. They MUST have busted through in the blink. No other explanation will do.

The holes that busted wide, they awaken me to a Niagra of life that floods my everydays. And do I see them? Witness them? Join them?

Did I look into their eyes long enough for them to see my soul?  My love-saturated soul?  Or was I overloaded and occupied with other, more pressing, tasks?

I’m hopeful.  Hopeful that for this year, my eyes behold – my hands give – my heart cherishes more of the pure, excellent, lovely, noble.

Every prayer.

Hug.

Dish half-washed.

Coloring page.

Laugh.

Cry.

Bath.

Song.

Story.

Lesson.

Walk.

Drive.

Every time they say “mama.”

“I love you!”

“Watch!”

“For you!”

“Will you lay with me?”

“Scratch my back?”

“Dear Lord,”

 “Amen.”

I don’t want to miss it. The gift of life that bustles bright if we watch.

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.  Proverbs 13:12

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Hope transforms.  It revives and strengthens.  

Even you.  Even me.   It’s the year for cherishing those we say we treasure.  For giving ourselves to the ones we welcome to our table.  For beholding the faces of little humans who hope hard for devoted time.

I’m thankful for another year! My “suit” is clunking and oft’ unmanageable.  And it’s going to fall apart.

But HoPe!

My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness.

Here’s to a transformed year~

k.

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