Your plans for her are full of hope.
To prosper her and not to harm her.
You promised. In your heart, she is Talika Hope. In our hearts too.
What else can we do but wait? Wait, and not allow our hopes for her to die. It is tempting.... tempting to close our hearts, a lot, or just a little. Tempting to let go of hope...because hope is painful when it comes to matters like these. But hope is also sweet. Hope draws us, propels us, into the secret place. The place where we hear you, encounter your heart, learn to lean and trust and cry into your chest.
The ache of hopeful waiting draws us into you, and we share a little bit in the fellowship of your suffering.
Oh Father, let me steward this gift well. Help me, God. I'm afraid of my own desire for comfort. Waiting in hope is not comfortable. Sometimes the ache seems unbearable. In those moments, I am learning to press in close to your heart... learning to draw strength, peace, and joy from my Source, even as I hold this ache in my heart.
I can have these things in tandem.
The ache, and the joy.
The deep longing, and the deep peace.
The crying out, and the silent trusting.
The waiting, and being fully present in this moment.
The tears, and the laughter.
They are all from you. They are all gifts.
They are not mutually exclusive.
I am learning to live fully alive, freely, full of joy and peace. I am learning to live while carrying this ache. Teach me Father.
I trust in your heart, your perfect plans, your sovereignty. I trust in your power and desire to move mountains on her behalf. I press in deeper. Trust you ruthlessly, relentlessly, agonizingly. How long, O Lord?!
I wait in hope for you.....
