From Greek elpis = “favorable and confident expectation”

Do you have a favorite word or emotion? When I was a child and enjoyed reading a novel I liked the word suddenly because I knew it indicated a surprising shift in the story line was coming. I like surprises. I like a mystery that is cleverly woven together with word pictures only to have the final answers to the mystery disclosed in the last few pages of a good book.

I’m not a child any more and while I still enjoy a good surprise, my focus has shifted to holding onto hope. Why? Because when I look past the boundaries of my loving and secure home, I am sensitive and aware of the chaos taking place in our nation, our world, and even within the limits of the small community that I have called home for 24 years. I admit that I’m finding it difficult not to get caught up in the anxiousness and worry brought about by the seemingly endless reports of attacks against people (big or small) or the moral decline in the lives of individuals who are worthy of a headline in a daily or weekly newspaper. It seems that I can’t turn on the television and not be bombarded with yet ‘another’ act of evil or indiscretion.

So, what do you do when you hear and read the news coming across the waves? Do you react or respond in any manner? My response is twofold. 1) I am aware that my prayer list need to grow longer and 2) I need to hang onto ‘hope’ with great fervency.  If I don’t my mind can slip down the slippery slope of despair which leads to an abiding fear and robs me of my confidence and trust that everything in my ‘world’ is okay. Another aspect of losing hope is daydreaming the ‘what ifs’ of the future that are beyond my control such as the economy, safety in my home and in our nation, and abroad, etc. For me, giving permission to the wrong daydreams is an invitation to feed my despair rather than taking action to nurture the hope and peace that I desire. My daydreams also take me back to the little girl who grew up in a home with very loving parents that made me feel safe. I’m  also able to conjure memories from those years that formed my ability to feel loved and secure and even believe that my dad was some kind of superhero who could protect me from anything. Those young years of childhood are a distant memory now which have  yielded to adulthood making it my turn now to take ownership of my own sense of protection. To find that level of secure  protection I  chose to embrace my Christian faith as the solid rock that was once my earthly father’s role. In other words, I’ve exchanged my trust in a father to that of a Father. I’m grateful for a father who instructed me in the knowledge, wisdom, and promises of my Heavenly Father. Thankful is my heart that also has sweet, precious memories of a mother who was a prayer warrior in her own right as well. Foundations of early instruction in the ways of the Lord built strong walls of faith in my inner spirit that rise up against the sadness and unexplained choices of others that create and lead to destruction all around my otherwise ‘normal’ world.

In the course of today, all kinds of people will be making choices and decisions. Many of those choices will be rooted in fear, speculation, worry, greed, jealously, manipulation, pride, evil….the list is endless. What will I choose today? What will you choose today? As I choose I know this: I may not be on the front lines of influence, however, this will not stop me from choosing hope. 

As today unfolds, followed by numerous tomorrows to come, I am clinging to hope, doing so with full confidence that my Heavenly Father, who sees all and knows all, is watching over me, a Father Who possesses a strong arm of protection that is not too short to grab me, reel me away from thoughts of despair and return me to my circle of hope.

Since establishing that Tuesday of each week would become my assigned day to write a new blog, I have hoped up to this point to be able to write  from the gifts of humor, goodness, and deep abiding faith that are part of who I am as an individual. Due to the events in the City of Boston on Monday, April 15 this will not be the underlying outline for the aches and pangs of my heart. Although those three ingredients are still very much a part of me this morning, the deeper part of me which digs into the core of my belief system is rising to surface of my soul much like cream that floats to the top of a fresh can of raw milk.

Like you, my emotions are running rampant across the stability and reasoning of this roller coaster we call life. Since seeing and hearing the various news reports coming out of Boston I admit to anger, outrage, grief, and thoughts of revenge even though no one has been arrested in connection with the two bombings. The reports we are hearing are taking us back to Sept. 11 and most recently Newtown. Comparisons are being made and I’m certain old wounds have been reopened in the lives of those affected from those two attacks with the reality of this new development. The level of fear, anger, outrage, and disbelief are present in all of these attacks and unfortunately are not new to us as a nation or as part of a global society. I am intrigued by those who ponder ‘how can this happen on American soil’ when in reality, why do we think we are immune to acts of evil? We have brothers and sisters around the world living under levels of fear that far outweigh this attack, with the exception of Sept. 11. which I believe is the “Pearl Harbor” for our current generation. I wasn’t born yet when the attack on Pearl Harbor took place, but I do remember my father telling me about that fateful day and how he believed that America never fully healed from that horrible moment in our history.

So, in the aftermath of Boston where do we go from here? I know where I’m going and that’s on my knees with more fervency asking God to root out evil and change the hearts and minds of men and women. I will not blame Him and I won’t ask “where were you God?” I already know the answer to the latter question and from that I will draw comfort as I always do in the midst of darkness. I believe He is still on the throne, He is still sovereign, He is in control, and I believe He is grieving more than you and I can comprehend. I will remember that He is the author and finisher of life and that He does not make puppets out of the very people that He created–He is allowing us to exercise free will. Anytime freedom is present, there is also the opposing force of evil.

So, in response to this horrific day, you will find me putting on my ‘knee pads’ and interceding for my community, my state, my nation, and my world. In reality I know that my prayers may not win the war, but I take great joy in winning numerous battles and taking back territory previously claimed by evil. I will also take inventory of my own life and determine where I need a larger portion of God’s wisdom, compassion, mercy, and love in order to be a life changer and not an impotent member of society. Life is precious and priceless. Knee pads, on the contrary, are inexpensive; will you join me?

I have what we jokingly refer to in my household as “label issues”. At least once a month I am guilty of not properly reading the label on a grocery item or two and I bring home an incorrect product.Yet, we are always able to use my oops purchases  in spite of my misguided intentions. I try to be careful, I really do! It’s just that when I’m shopping I don’t like the hassle of putting my reading glasses on and off as I cruise the aisles while I checkoff items on my list.

Recently a current “project” has been the painting of several rooms, all being accomplished by my husband. The living room is the last of his intended ‘putting on a fresh coat of paint or two’ which has left me the task of cleaning the drapery that adorns our window in that room. Now mind you, I paid a hefty price for those draperies and the complimentary sash that makes our window look very classy so you can bet I made sure to read the labels that are sewn into the crevices of their beauty. I didn’t want the nightmare of wrinkles, shrinkage, you-name-your-own terrible outcome! No sir, I got out my reading glasses for that chore of laundering and proper drying.  So, after exercising that bit of wisdom on my part our beautiful set of drapes are now line drying, patiently waiting for paint to dry and be rehung. i

Have you noticed that everything we purchase comes with a label? Labels are important. They give instructions. They tell us the content of a garment or the ingredients in a can of food or a  household cleaner. There’s only one thing that I can think of that doesn’t come with a label and that’s a newborn baby. We welcome our newborn into the world and it’s up to as parents to “name” the child. Greater than choosing a name for our precious gift is the responsibility to train this innocent, unbiased, unconditional lover into a person that the world will receive with respect, love, acceptance…well the list goes on doesn’t it?

But how often in the midst of our well intentions do we as mere human beings get off track and begin to react to the behavior and antics of our child and begin to ‘label’? You know what I mean. We begin using descriptive words such as “you’re lazy”, “you’re so slow”, “if only you could be like (fill in the blank)”, “you’ll never amount to much”. Unfortunately this is an exhaustive list.

This past week someone I respect very much coined this phrase: “Refuse to be defined by others”. I have made serious note of those six words. Those few words brought back a flood of memories growing up, raising my own two children, and now my daily choice of words  in every relationship that is dear to me. I want my words to encourage, not tear down. I want my words to build up, not destroy. I want my words to express love, not judgement. I want my words to convey truth, not a crafty lie to smooth over delicate circumstances.

While I joke and struggle with minor label issues, I grieve deeply when I hear some of the labels coming from the lips of those in media, national leadership, education, business, the family–just a few major categories where words are vital to the health of a person and a society. Why, I wonder, have we evolved to the level of name calling, blame shifting, speaking filth or spew insults with as much ease as it takes to spit out a watermelon seed? Furthermore, as hurtful are the ones speaking with such disdain, is the pain of many individuals allowing it to proliferate.

On Monday evening I heard a very profound statement: “I am a black man, I am not an African American. Call me an American”. I also heard: “I am a man, call me that”. Why have we labeled people on the color of their skin or their country of origin? Is it really necessary? When I tell my friends about another friend, am I required to include color of skin, hair, eyes, or how tall they are? No!

One of my favorite verses in the Bible tells me that my tongue “holds blessings and curses” which interprets that if not careful I may ‘label’ someone that doesn’t deserve the stupidity of my thought processes. Oh that everyone who truly wants our world to be a kinder and more gentle dwelling place would heed this command. Think how that could bring about good change!

Unfortunately, I cannot give ample space to express the deepest thoughts I have on this subject. Perhaps that’s a series of writings for another day. And, it isn’t my intention to get so serious that I can’t find humor in this struggle of mine. Let me leave you with a couple of labels that our children wore for awhile and how they were innocent words from childhood that followed them as they grew into their teens and beyond.

When Sarah was about 8 she began giving stuff away to friends when they came to our home. Very soon one of the little boys from our church who had been a recipient of her generousity started calling her “Sarah the Giver”. Indeed, as years passed she often exhibited a ‘giving’ spirit and remains true to that description today.

When Dan was a toddler his babysitter gave him the nickname “Mr. Fingers” because he was curious, often  stretching to grab something out of his reach. In high school he played football, was a wide receiver who needed to “grab” hold of the football when it passed to him during a key play. Today he is a successful college student, grasping the knowledge from textbooks and the structure of a work day.

Lest I end on a negative not I must state that not all labels are bad. Remember, warning labels do serve a vital purpose. But, also remember, our precious babies don’t come with a label. If they did here’s what I’d like to imagine the description to read.  “Warning: One Size Does Not Fit All. Precious gift from God. Do not Drop. Do not Speak Harshly.  Love,  Feed, Water, Clothe, Nurture, Encourage,  Train According to Bible. Allow to Explore. Allow to Fail. Celebrate Success. IMPORTANT: Unreturnable. 

Today (April 2) should be a most enjoyable day. Already the sun is shining through the window as I sit and write. Birds are helping to announce the birth of a new day. The promise of another spring season is upon us.
I am enjoying fresh brewed coffee and making plans for this glorious day.

A lunch date with a dear friend is one of my highlights of the day. Our girls are now young women, one with two children of her own now. It seems so trite to say ‘where does the time go?’ but I cannot coin a phrase of my own to describe the passing of the years. I can reach back into the caverns of memories and recall when these two little girls were happy playing with Barbies, making plans for overnight stays, walking to the party store for candy, discussing who likes who….those childhood and adolescent days are now in the rear view mirror of life.

Graduations from high school and university have been achieved, weddings planned and now the life of marriage is the current theme for these women. Hurts and disappointments entered that mix, yet healing has come and the promise of new love has settled on the horizon of being cherished. The deep bond found in a good friendship sustained the pain and celebrated the long awaited joy that comes in the morning, those times in life when ‘beauty comes from ashes’.

Having and cherishing a best friend is a gift. Sometimes one may have more than one ‘bestie’ (today’s new term) but I believe we all need at least one best friend, the kind of friend that accepts you with all of your quirks and flaws, a friend who will get in the pit of despair with you, roll around in the dirt and hurt of life and not complain the entire time–the kind of friend who will laugh with you over absolute nonsense until tears roll down cheeks, or during life’s most serious moments, offers a hug and a simple, warm profound ‘I love you’.

Yes, today, I will spend time with a bestie along with her daughter, her two grandchildren, and my daughter. We will talk about the years that have gone by, we will laugh in the moment and we will share our dreams and thoughts for the future. We won’t attempt to solve the problems in the world because we know that isn’t the definition and purpose for our grand friendships. However, if conversation does turn to current events and what lies ahead we will encourage one another with the truth and true basis of our close knit connection, that God is in control and that we give Him thanks and praise for being our Heavenly Father, for His care, protection, provision, guidance, and love. After that we will return to the simplicity and silliness of being each other’s bestie and enjoying the short time we have together today, knowing that we will soon part for the day with the hope and promise of enjoying another girls only lunch date.