Hope, Faith, Hope, Love, Hope

After pondering my list of interests, which really hasn't changed since I created my blog last year, I have decided it might be a valuable exercise to write about some of them.

I have been particularly interested in the concept of hope lately, what it entails, where it comes from, what effects its presence or absence has upon a person psychologically, spiritually, and physically. Certainly, there have been moments and even years where I felt no hope, although it was there all along. I have concluded that hope is tied to life; as long as one's body is still living, there is always hope for betterment. As to the afterlife, I cannot say what I think except that I believe it will be the cessation of the need for hope, because all the gaps will be filled up, incorruptibly. One only needs hope when something warrants changing.

It is sad that we use this word "hope" so lightly. "I hope it doesn't rain" indicates a wish, but is generally said with a sense of powerlessness. The word used in scripture carries with it an firm expectation, a faith that what we hope for is really coming. The beautiful phrase "hope does not disappoint" out of Romans is spoken in the context of a discourse on knowing that we are loved divinely. As a believer in Christ, I don't have to wonder about God, or wistfully wish that the gospel were true. I have proof. He came for me while I still hated Him, while I was still completely self-absorbed. Obviously, He must love me. A loved child has faith in her father, and her hope that he will catch her when she jumps into his arms is absolute. Her hope does not let her down, because she knows she is loved.

I find that love is the foundation for both hope and faith. "Now abideth faith, hope and love, and the greatest of these is love." I would say that there is a progression here: faith breeds hope, which brings me to love. Okay, so then where do I get faith? "Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God." Some commentators interpret the phrase "the word of God" as being "the words of Christ". Either way, it makes sense to me that there would be a progression. Here is how I see it:

• The world I'm in is devoid of hope. We are killing ourselves in the search for it.
• I'm called to be different from the world, to be transformed by the renewing of my thought patterns through the words of my Father and His Son.
• The logos words (scripture), the rhema words (pointedly personal epiphanies from God), and the Word Himself (Christ - see John 1) are all instrumental in the strengthening of my faith, as I see them apply in real ways to my postmodern, show-it-to-me life.
• This growing faith leads me to hope (not wish, but believe) in the truth of the story I've been told.
• This hope/belief brings me to a place where I can absorb and accept the Love that is being lavished on me daily by God, through all sorts of venues. As God's love transforms and expands my heart, I am able to love others, and through this love to perpetuate the hope that conceived it.

In my mind these are not so much discrete stages, as they are a simultaneous, spontaneous, and frankly mysterious process. Obviously, my conclusions are a result of the synnergistic application of various portions of scripture, which is actually what makes this such an exciting revelation to me. It is exciting to see multiple parts of my belief system dovetailing with one another. It gives me great peace to know that I am not responsible for my own sanctification. It brings me great simplicity to realize that my main duty is to be available, to keep myself in the place of communication with God. As I receive His rhemas and read His logos, and humble myself, the overflow of this communication will manifest as me becoming a more loving person.

I'd be interested in anyone's thoughts on this. It's all still very new and vague to me.

This year is flying along at a shocking rate. Somehow, it is daffodil and forsythia season already, and winter shrinks backward with soggy steps. The view from my favorite chair shows maples just sprinkled with a blush of maroon, and the tangly briars down in the woods look like they've been dusted with lime green flour. This is the most hopeful time of year to me, a time that proves that not all change is frightening, that no matter how cold the cold or dark the darkness, it cannot last, and that the unveiling of beauty is inevitable. If I want to hold onto a sadness, I must be sure not to allow myself to step outside in the spring. For as soon as I do, joy leaps up from every sprout, grace falls down from every budding leaf, hope soaks me like raindrops, and my precious depression that I'd so carefully stored up over the cold months is ruined beyond repair.

All this hope has gotten me wanting to grow vegetables. As soon as the ground and air are dry and warm enough, that magical day for which all good gardeners await, I will be ready with seedlings and hoes and other implements of creation. At one point, I had gone so far in my excitement as to consider starting a compost pile, when I realized my over-wrought condition and tried to calm myself with some tea. I do tend to take things a bit far in general, and in the spring this tendency turns to downright recklessness. I try to remind myself of what happened the last time I planted vegetables, at age eleven; how very sweaty and tiring the weeding can be, how foul the stench of pesticide, how tedious the dragging of the water hose. But all this negative thinking has been to no avail thus far. The thought of luscious tomatoes, so sweet as to be almost vulgar and still warm from the sun, or tender peas, or creamy sweet potatoes, or better yet, being able to give away these jewels to friends... these fantasies are too lofty to be defeated by any worry about the work it will all require.

I suppose that's the lovely thing about spring - unavoidable optimism. Even other definitions of the word indicate hope: "spring: an elastic body or device that recovers its original shape when released after being distorted" and also "the act or an instance of leaping up or forward"

It is the end of a cold, dark time... spring. It has a certain ring to it, doesn't it?