To the one who has heard the word wait more times than she can count.
To the one who has soaked her pillow with tears.
To the one who takes a different route just to avoid buildings, landmarks, or anything that would be a reminder.
To the one who has prayed the same prayer for weeks, months, years even – and seen nothing change.
To the one who feels alone, breaking on the inside as the world keeps walking on by.
To the one who can barely breathe when the calendar flips over to a specific day.
To the one who sucks in air and raises hands as a particular song plays on the radio, wanting it to shut off and play forever all at the same time.
To the one who begs God for hope because it’s all but run out.
To the one who has been run out on.
To the one who doesn’t know how to believe any more.
To the one who wonders how much longer?
To the one who reads these words and thinks, “This is my story.”
Yes. This is your story and this is my story and this right here, it is the story of the hope-less and the hope-full and the weary ones clinging to hope for one day more.
Let us hold tightly without wavering to the hope we affirm, for God can be trusted to keep his promise. Hebrews 10:23 NLT
That first year I thought surely, any day now, things will change. The second year came and life had moved on but I hadn’t. By year three the only thing that hadn’t changed was my broken heart. No matter how many times I prayed, nothing happened.
As year four rolled around I was in a much better place emotionally, but hopefully? Soul-hope? It was dissipating quickly.
At some point in the journey of prayer, when the same words are whispered, muttered, believed whole-heartedly, yelled even, but nothing on this side of heaven appears to change, there is a moment of prayer to simply hang onto hope.
Year four, month two was my moment.
I learned what it means to hope for hope, to hope that it can come again and fill you like wind in the sails as you cross the ocean.
There were waves and I thought I would capsize more than a time or two, but I wailed and wept and begged for another day of hope – even when it all felt pointless.
Because it did. Sometimes it just felt pointless – like the only thing changing was me – and that’s not what I was asking for.
But that’s what He was wanting. An inner working on my heart, days after day, for over four years.
Year four, month five was my miracle.
To the one who is hoping for just one more day of hope, don’t give up. Keep praying. Keep believing. I like to think Heaven has it’s own countdown, a knowing ticking of the clock.
On day one He knew I just had to make it to day 1,609. When I prayed on day 482, He knew I only had 1,127 days remaining.
What if there is a giant countdown for what you’re hoping for? What if all of Heaven is counting down the days? What if they’re all saying just hold on, don’t give up, it’s coming.
We say the clock is ticking and time is running out. Dear one, the clock is ticking… but it’s counting down.
Just hold on.
I’m linking up with Holley Gerth, Jennifer Dukes Lee, and Holly Barrett this week and am happy to find myself back here again!
Writer’s Note: I realize that not everyone receives their miracle this side of Heaven and I surely do not want to promise that you will. I do, however, hope that these words show two things: You are not alone and nothing is too hard, too late, or too far gone for Him. Keep holding on, friends. Hold tight to hope for He who promised is faithful.
