Unveiling Hope

Come to Me - Part Two

Her fragrance delivered her before her shadow cast itself over the hilltop. She didn’t see me. She sensed me though. She began to feel mesmerized, captivated by a mysterious passion she would not be able to release without me. I was the key. Before her body crossed the peak, her spirit recognized my presence. Before she became aware, it was already responding to me, seeking me, longing for me. I had planned it that way from the beginning. Understand – my longing for her, my yearning for her, was far greater and overwhelming than hers for me. There was something about her, a combination of virtues and values that were unique to her. Her heart wasn’t the only thing I wanted. I longed for her love. I wanted to be embraced by all of her – her heart, her soul, her mind – with all the strength she possessed. I had been waiting far too long, yet – she was worth the wait.

There was something powerful calling me to hasten my last few steps. My legs were weak, but not from the climb. It felt like one of those dreams when you find yourself running toward something with everything in you, yet your legs don’t seem to be moving. The summit of the hill seemed so far away, yet merely steps separated us. My heart, soul and mind – every part of my existence needed to see what was on the other side. It felt as if I had spent my entire life on the journey to this very place – but it was only in these minutes that I sensed an urgency to be where I was going. I yearned for something that was on the other side, suddenly that longing felt as if it had been there my entire life. I needed something and I didn’t know what it was, but I knew I’d find it on the other side. A revelation of something I had been searching for without understanding was about to be unveiled.

A symphony of life announced her appearance. Everything in creation applauded her. The wind blew my kisses through her hair and planted my words of love into her ears. She breathed deeply and sighed, filling herself with my love. A new life began in her that very moment. Her beauty left me breathless – why - I didn’t know. I knew her before she knew me. It was as if I had only heard of her loveliness, as if I had only seen an artist’s rendition but as she began to take those next steps my spirit was taken aback – she was breathtaking. The reflection of the sun on the water danced in her eyes and mirrored my love for her. Her gaze fell upon me like the morning dew glistening at daybreak. My spirit called out to hers.

I was breathless, but not out of breath. In some ways it seemed like it was the culmination of my adventure, something tugged at my soul – something I didn’t understand but I was about to. I knew it was just the beginning, perhaps the end of one journey but the start of a passage, an understanding, the fulfillment of a promise. I felt understood. I felt loved. Purpose was speaking to me, calling me out of the shell I had survived in. I felt like a flower, opening up for the first time. Someone was looking into me, seeing me, seeing in me what I never saw in myself. The unveiling of hope was revealing itself to me. I laid down in the grass. It was covered in dew, but I welcomed it. It made me feel alive. My spirit was alert as if it had heard something I hadn’t – a concerto playing for me, written for me and only me. It felt like a new beginning.

The Closet

It was two days before graduation. Jenny had frantically been searching for her black pumps to wear with her gown for the graduation ceremony. “Jenny,” her mother suggested, “why don’t you clean out your closet. I’m sure your shoes are buried in there somewhere, Honey.”

“I’ll never find them, Mom. Can’t we just buy a new pair?”

“Sweetheart,” her mother answered, “we could do that, but then you’ll have no time to break them in. In years to come, you’ll think back to your special day and all you’ll remember is how much your feet hurt. Please, take a few moments and go through your closet. It’s long overdue for a cleaning anyway.”

Jenny hemmed and hawed as she climbed the stairs to her room. She knew her mother made a good point but thinking of the effort she’d have to put into tackling the beastly terror she called a closet didn’t appeal to her. For years, she had been stuffing things into that space, things that didn’t fit, things that didn’t belong there. There was no room for anything new.

Jenny mumbled to herself, “It took more than two years to get it that messy. There’s no way I’m going to be able to clean this in one evening. Besides, I have better things to do; I could be out having fun with my friends, or watching television. Anything would be more fun than this.”

After a couple of hours had gone by, Jenny looked behind her and saw three organized piles of her things. She looked before her and suddenly the closet that earlier was exploding onto her bedroom floor seemed less intimidating. Bit by bit, the work was being done. Jenny began to chuckle at herself when she thought about her initial reaction to cleaning her closet, realizing that it really wasn’t as onerous as she had made it out to be.

She pulled two shoe boxes out of the closet. She opened the first box and found a collection of pictures she had taken with her friends on their high school trip to Europe. She looked through the pictures, remembering the times they had together. Jenny decided to put the box aside with the intent of placing the pictures in a photo album so she could bring them to college with her in the fall.

Jenny opened the second box. Inside the box were Jenny’s pumps; inside one of the shoes was the white velvet case of genuine pearls that her father had given her when she was only five years old. A letter, written on fine parchment paper, was wrapped around the velvet case and tied up with a beautiful bow. Jenny’s heart was overwhelmed. She remembered back to the time when her father had asked her for her strand of pink “dime store” pearls and how she had fought to hang on to them. When she finally gave them to him, he replaced them with the “real” pearls.

Jenny was almost afraid to untie the bow. You see, it had been almost three years since her Daddy had passed away. She remembered how he loved to write her letters as she was growing up, and he always wrote them on parchment paper, so she would feel special.

Jenny began to read: “My Precious Child, You’re reading this letter today because I can’t be with you to tell you, in person, how very much I love you. Jenny, I have always been so proud of you. Having you, as my child, is the greatest gift a father could ever have. I know that whatever life has in store for you, you will meet it head on with honour and dignity, the way your mother and I raised you. Life won’t always be easy, but remember to make room for joy in your heart. Every challenge you encounter will refine you into the person I know you were meant to be, and will give you the tools to live “life at its best”. So, in all you do, at all times, keep your head held high and your heart filled with my love. Walk confidently knowing that your father couldn’t possibly love you more than he does at this very moment. Signed: “Your loving Daddy.”

Jenny brushed the tears off her cheeks as she headed downstairs to the kitchen to see her mother. “Did you find your shoes, sweetheart?” Her mother asked her, noticing that Jenny had been crying. “Yes and so much more, Mom, and so much more. Thank you for encouraging me to clean my closet,” she said as she handed her mother the pearls, once lost… now found, and the treasure that accompanied them.

Has God left a letter in your closet? Is He still waiting for your response?

Hope Deferred

I had been invited to Carol’s 13^th birthday party. She was the last of the “Group of 7” to turn 13. Imagine seven happy, giddy, 13 year old girls in a small apartment. I was secretly impressed that Carol’s mom put so much effort into her daughter’s party.

After the sugar high from the cake and ice-cream we all sat around the coffee table in the living room. The gifts were prominently displayed on the table. Carol’s mom sat in a wooden rocking chair at the end of the table. Carol sat at her feet. She kept looking up into her mom’s eyes and her mom reciprocated the look; it was as if to say, “I love you so much.” I watched her mom stroking her hair. Carol put her head on her mom’s lap. I couldn’t help but think to myself, is this how normal moms and their daughters act? She began opening gifts. Her mother was as engaged as she was. I couldn’t stop myself from staring. Those few simple gestures gripped my heart. I had a lump in my throat and had to turn away, but minutes later I’d find my gaze had returned to their direction. I didn’t want to go home.

But, I did. I couldn’t help it. I longed for it so desperately that I had to try it. The next time I found my mom reading in her favourite chair, I sat on the floor beside her and leaned my head on her knees. She shooed me away. She was trying to read. I was disturbing her. I was always disturbing her.

I spent a lifetime hoping for a place to lay my head down, a pair of arms to wrap myself up in and someone who could love me no matter what I did, no matter how busy or tired they were. Four years ago, I met Him. Truth be known, I had met Him years before but we were only acquaintances. Unbeknownst to me He had longed for a more intimate relationship for years. Thankfully, I started paying more attention to Him and finally clued in. I used to dream about us being together. He’d be sitting down, leaning against a willow tree on the bank of a river. I was sitting with my back against His chest. His arms would be tightly wrapped around me. He spoke gently in my ears; He told me everything he loved about me.

I spend a lot of time going to that special place, where I meet the lover of my soul. I don’t have to wait. All I have to do is close my eyes and listen to Him call me. When I need arms to hold me, to love me, to protect me – there He is. When I just want to be with Him for the sake of being with Him – there He is waiting – longing for me just as I long for Him.

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

Love is in the Air

Ever been in love? Have you ever seen the object of your affection from across the room and felt your heart begin to pound inside your throat? Just thinking about them sets your stomach a flitter; you’re eyes begin to shine and dance around when you speak and in that moment nothing – absolutely nothing - is wrong in the world? Ever been in that kind of love?

I’m in it. It’s in me. It’s all around me. It’s in the air. It’s everywhere I go. I’m giddy and jumpy. I can’t fall asleep and suddenly, I’m not very interested in food. I can’t get enough of him. He occupies every part of my mind every waking moment and even in my dreams. These past few days, we’ve spent almost all day together and even though we’ve known each other for a few years, it’s as if we’ve just met yet I’m as comfortable with him as I would be my best friend.

I find myself wanting to look super-fine for him. I’m picking out my best clothes to wear when we’re together. I’m even wearing skirts again. I’m paying special attention to everything because I want to be perfect for him. My attitude about everything is just amazingly positive. My entire perspective has changed. I just don’t ever want to be apart from him; I’ve been waiting all my life to be loved this way. I was honestly beginning to think it would never happen. I was beginning to turn my mind to the possibility that it wasn’t meant to be – at least not for me. Was I ever wrong!

I’m so anxious to tell you more but I’m meeting him shortly and I want to be presentable. Can’t wait to share more!

My Love; My Eden

You were on your knees, patting down the earth over top of the bulbs you had just planted. Your hands caressed the soil as if it was velvet. A drop of sweat fell from your brow into the dirt and a rose sprouted from the ground reaching up to kiss your lips. It bloomed beneath your gaze.

You sat down and began to speak. I wondered, as I watched, to whom you were speaking. You leaned back against the wooden fence and picked up a mason jar that was full of cold water; beads of condensation rolled over your strong hands. You drew a sip to quench your thirst. The late morning sun began to blaze upon you – the rose looked weary. You cupped its bud in your hand ever so tenderly. You removed what appeared to be a handful of seeds from your pocket, placed a few in your mouth, and then spit one onto the ground. I saw it take root before my very eyes. A sunflower grew immediately, towering over you, giving shelter to you and your rose.

With your mason jar in hand, you began to pour water around the rose. The roots drank it up until the flower bloomed at your smile. You whispered something; did my eyes deceive me? The mason jar was suddenly filled with water. One after another, roses began to push through the soil, every one a different size and colour.

You began to draw something in the dirt. I was watching from a distance, marvelled by this power you possessed, humbled by your devotion to every seed you had sown, for each one began to grow around you. They were strengthened by your presence.

I had to see what you had drawn. I quietly tried to inch my way forward to catch a glimpse. Perhaps you had written something but just as I leaned forward, I stepped on a twig and it snapped. It didn’t startle you at all. You grinned and looked in my direction. I felt naked, as if you could see beyond the bush and right through me, but I was not ashamed.

The sun was beginning to scorch the bush in front of me. I was hot and uncomfortable but reticent to move – afraid that you would discover me, afraid that you would see into the very depths of my soul – where nothing grew. You closed your eyes and picked up the mason jar; you poured some water into your palm and then gently blew over your hand. It made a breezy mist that almost took my breath away. I was refreshed. Droplets of water rested on my skin. It wasn’t rain. It was living water breathed over me from the depths of your love. Something wonderful began to grow inside me.

The flowers seemed to be moving closer to you, bowing their blossoms as if to read what you had written in the dirt. You smiled and looked up into the crystal blue sky. The roses began to sing in harmony. From where did the music come? I don’t know how I knew, but I was certain the music was coming from your heart. I thought to myself, if I was to live but a moment more, could it be in your arms – and could I be content with only that moment? Your head slowly turned toward me. You held out your right arm; your spirit harkened to mine, “Come.”

Suddenly, I knew that I was yours – that you had come for me – that we could be separated no more. It was pre-destined - meant to be. My clothes, once rags, became brilliant – radiant under the sun. As I drew near to you, you drew nearer to me yet you hadn’t moved. You reached for my hand and when we touched I tingled all over, from the inside outward. You looked through my eyes into my soul and I knew I was pure and beautiful from that very instant.

I felt your grip tighten ever so slightly. You didn’t even have to speak. I looked down at what you had written on the ground and my heart leaped in my bosom. It was the name of your betrothed, the lover of your heart, the lover of your spirit and soul; it was my name, Hope – the name you gave the desire for you that you planted in my heart from the beginning. You left the garden and gave me your peace. You firmly established my roots. You gave me shelter and my jar is overflowing.