Sometimes, we are unable to package an immense hope in pretty wrapping paper with bows. In our darker times, hope can be more like a speck in the middle of some crumpled dirty newspapers. But, if that hope is in God, it doesn’t matter.
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It’s so important to scrutinize where, or in what, we place our confidence. It can mean the difference between limited and enduring peace, between passing or persistent joy. It is, in all seriousness, the difference between life and death, both spiritually and physically.
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Physical pain, heartache and loss, financial troubles, and all sorts of trials shorten the distance of our vision. It sometimes takes all of our beings to move forward when we can’t see what’s ahead. That’s when we can rely on hope to become our lenses.
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Rewriting and shifting the way we look at ourselves after diagnosis is a challenging process. Loving our bodies is exponentially harder when our bodies don’t operate the way they are supposed to.
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Our second days can last anywhere from a moment to many years, and during that time our hope and faith can waver, we may come to acceptance, frequently get angry, attempt to make personal goals and changes, and so much more. Sometimes, we become comfortable with the dysfunction of the second day and end up living with no peace, little happiness, and minimal hope. And if we’re not careful, we will be so focused on what happened on our “Good Friday” and how it affected us, that we will miss our “Resurrection Sunday.”
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Should be comfortable in our pain? Is it wrong to have moments, or even seasons, of anger, grief, or desperation even if it does have a purpose?
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