The story below is excerpted from my book Cry Purple.
Romans 8:24-25 For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.
Life has a way of beating a person down when they think they can’t sink any lower. Such dark moments can squeeze you until you feel there is no hope. But somewhere deep down we all have the tiniest bit of faith that the darkness isn’t supposed to be the norm. Somehow we all have a sense, though perhaps buried, that darkness is the intruder, even if darkness is all we have known. Something in us cries out for the light even if we have never known it.
We see these glimmers of hope in the world around us, the sunlight warming our faces, flowers demanding our admiration, a gentle breeze hinting that change will come. It’s easy to take tiny freedoms, these small displays of beauty or simple breezes, for granted. Some of us see change or even our redemption right around the corner. Yet others live on these small moments for years, barely surviving, but surviving all the same.
2 Corinthians 4:16-18 So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.
“Love your neighbor, all of ’em.” -Christine Clarity McDonald