The table’s still spread with books, Bibles and notes on hope, last week’s topic for adult Sunday School. Neither church nor Sunday School happened last week, nor have a lot of events since then. Still, I can’t seem to pack it away to neaten up. Nobody’s stopping by, for good reason. Besides, with all that’s going on, clutter’s way down the list of my concerns.
So what do I do with this stash of hope? As we’ve been reminded, this is no time for hoarding. OK, I don’t have that much toilet paper and only one small dispenser of germ-killing soap, a travel size package of hand wipes and two containers of Clorox wipes for counter tops. Besides, if pressed, I’ll share.
As I write, I’m picturing Jud, shaking his head muttering “She’s hopeless!” Not totally, I hope, which brings me back to the topic at hand. Who couldn’t use a massive dose of hope to combat fear’s tenacious grip? Isolated from our usual routines, where can we find hope, or is it out-of-stock?
Good news. God’s not pacing with brow furrowed, puzzling over the coronavirus. Envision God weeping with us. God sees and cares, but still is Hope-full. Look outside, Spring’s on the march. Listen to the birds, they’re still singing. People,too. Five days ago, folks sang from their balconies in Siena, Italy, locked- down but freely spreading hope through song. Scientists still don lab coats and protective gear to plumb the unknown in search of cures for more than Covid-19. Hope still hangs around, acknowledging while loosening fear’s grip.
While we focus on survival for more than ourselves, lets be on the lookout for ways God still shows up. Think small; it’s the new big.
As for last Sunday’s text, it’s still good.
“Oh, May the God of green hope fill you up with joy, fill you up with peace, so that your believing lives, filled with the life-giving energy of the Holy Spirit will brim over with hope.” Romans 15:13
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