Hope

The last four weeks, I've been home, not by choice, but by circumstance.  I had hoped to capture every quiet moment of reflection and self discovery.  I couldn't cook, clean, dress the children, play, lift, prepare, plan - all the things that typically fill the minutes of my day.  So, in four weeks, I've uncovered a new way of being that I long to hang onto as I enter back into my life, hopefully not as I knew it before.


I hope I can commit to the daily meditation practice I've learned to cherish.


I hope I can commit to my daily blog entries which are my commitment to working through life's big questions that usurp my mind.


I hope I can commit to this pace of life, knowing that things will get hectic again and hoping that I have the wisdom to know when to call a time out.


I hope I can commit to my search for a deeper and more personal connection to God.   I sense God's presence in moments and spaces that are unexpected. I hope I can keep aware.


I hope I can commit to searching for quiet moments where I can sit in God's presence.


I hope I stay committed to my healing process.

In all my hoping, I am reminded of a favorite hymn:

My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus' blood and righteousness;
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
But wholly lean on Jesus' name.
On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand.

My Hope is Built on Nothing Lessby Edward Mote, 1797-1874