Worship More and Worry Less: 30 Days of Praiseنموونە

You don’t realize how much you need hope until yours is gone. It’s like air in our lungs. We can’t live without it. Google’s [archaic] definition of hope is “a feeling of trust.”

It’s true, isn’t it? Hope is more than a feeling of expectation. It involves belief, faith . . . trust.

Emily Dickinson wrote:

“Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune without the words,

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.”

Hope keeps us alive.

We’re heading into the holiday seasons, and many of us are fighting the storms of life that abash hope’s voice. Everything seems magnified during the holidays. Loss feels greater, deeper, more threatening than ever. The days grow shorter giving the darkness more time to linger. And the cold winds portray the chill in our hearts.

We need hope

Here’s a secret: Hope is found by those who want to find it.

I believe when we choose to find hope, we will find it, much like the shepherds who found the baby Jesus in a field. A willing, humble heart will always be led to incarnate grace. It’s not always in the logical places or where we want it to be. Hope tucks itself away to be found by treasure seekers who want more than what this world can offer.

Hope requires waiting. (Hopefully not as long as Abraham and Sarah had to wait!)

But that doesn’t mean we sit around with our chins in our hands. We worship. Worship to awaken the sleeping songbird and keep it singing through the fiercest storms, darkest night and loneliest season. Deep calls to deep. Put your hope, your trust in God.

Journal

Write down your deepest sorrows and ask the Lord to help you sing through this storm.