breath of hope

Friday, September 18, 2015

The past ten days have not been my favorite. I'm nervous and stressed, I've had children stuff to deal with, marriage stuff to deal with, meetings and messages, worry over a friend's trauma, and a truly unpleasant dental experience to top it all off. I'm not pretending it's any worse than any one else's week; I'm just tired. But then...last night:


After months of no contact, the young man who lived with my parents for a few months this past fall and winter texted my husband. Months of checking inmate rosters, news stories, waking up at night to worry and pray and worry and pray some more. They've ended with an inexplicable text. Why does he still have my husband's number? Different phone. Several different living situations. Weeks and weeks to forget, yet somehow, he has my husband's number. This Sunday, he's coming to dinner. I am undone by the beauty of this particular moment. Are things fixed? Probably not. Is everything going to be perfectly fine and smooth from here not? Definitely not. Will we ever see him again after Sunday? No idea. But God writes the best stories, and this one isn't done yet. We so needed this glimpse of hope.

Later that night, I got an email from our son's teacher from last year. She'd been thinking of her favorite students, and he came to mind, she said. A teacher that checks on her kids after they've left? That's a beautiful thing. A teacher that spent so much time loving and caring for our son? Oh, my words cannot express my gratitude. God loves our boy. He shows him His love in a million ways every day.

I don't know how theologically sound this makes me, but I love God more because I see how He cares for the least of these, the smallest child, the most vulnerable among us, the young man who is looking for his future and trying to forget his past. It's one thing to feel loved yourself, but it's another to watch those you love feel that same way. God cares. He loves. We matter. I'm breathing in hope.


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