Sunday, April 15, 2012

He Who Dwells in the Secret Place 5: The God of All Hope


It was sunny yesterday! After months of seeming never ending gray, it shined like hope. I’ve been thinking about hope a lot lately, having been in the hopeful frame of mind.  A week and a half ago I felt like God told me to quit wearing my knee brace. This is what I heard:  “It’s time to get rid of all the crutches, my dear.” I’ve been wearing a brace for over a year because it made walking easier and lessened my pain greatly. So when I felt like I heard that, I wiggled my finger in my ear as if to say, am I really hearing you right, Lord?  I had just days ago gotten past the barely walking stage! But I am learning to trust in ways I have never trusted before, so I took it off. (I did hate wearing that thing, it itched and sweated and looked ugly to boot).  And my leg is doing great. In fact, this morning I took a walk through the neighborhood with my husband, a walk I haven’t taken in almost two years!!!  Six weeks ago when I was desperate and hopeless I had no idea where this road was taking me. I had lost all hope. I had no clue that God was working and that I was close to victory.

Which brings me to one more picture that the Lord gave me in February when I was down and out. It started with an image of a burned out city. It looked like a battle had been there and passed, and everything was deserted, as if the war had moved on and left this ugly skeleton behind, now deep in enemy territory and far from the front lines.  Down in the corner you could see three soldiers in camo making their way carefully up the street. Somehow I knew that the guy in the front was Jesus.  They continued up the street for a while before ducking into one of the houses.

The next scene shows them bursting through a door into an attic type of room. The floors are wooden and there’s a large window that is set close to the floor. The only furnishings are a small bed and a nightstand.  I’m looking through Jesus’ eyes as I scan the space, and after moving into the room I see myself curled up in a ball on the floor between the nightstand and the bed. Now I’m looking with my eyes up at the three men in military garb and I somehow know that the two behind Jesus are angels.

Jesus kneels down and looks at me, eyes full of compassion, and says, “We are getting you out of here. The thing is, it’s not going to be easy. You are going to have to fight for this. We are deep behind enemy lines and we have a long way to go to freedom.”

I am not sure of everything I said to him, but I know that I didn’t think I could do it. It was too far, too hard, I’d never make it.  Just leave me.

At this point Jesus grabs me by the arms, shakes me a little and says, “You can do this. We are not leaving you here. But you’ve got to believe. You have to dare to hope.”  

How many of you know that hope is a dangerous emotion?  The pain of not getting what we long for can be worse than never hoping at all. My God had to bring me to a place of hope. And then He brought me to a place of healing. I don’t know if I’ve made it all the way out of enemy territory, but I am on the run, and I am full of hope. 

Romans 15:13 (NKJV)
Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

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