Hope deferred makes the heart sick.

This sometimes feels like it has been a year of hopelessness. I have had hard times before. Times when things didn't go exactly the way I wanted or times when I questioned the involvement of God in my life for good. But this year has felt exceptionally difficult. There were so many times where I thought to myself, "really? REALLY? this has to be happening right now?" I'm sure you can relate.

And I know that my problems, for starters, don't even compare to some of the big questions that go on outside my life. And I felt hopelessness in them to. Working in an MD classroom isn't the ideal picture of hope. I often looked at my kids and their pain and suffering and countless doctor's visits and asked the same question of God that I asked for myself--why? Is God here? Is he even listening? I know enough to understand that God doesn't promise our happiness or endless blessings in our personal lives. He doesn't even promise the day to day. And if I can't trust Him in those things, then where do I place my trust? I want so badly to believe and to feel in my heart that my God loves me. But sometimes the evidence is so completely overwhelming for the opposite argument.

I desperately hope that God will show up and heal this heart of bitterness and a year or more worth of hope deferred. I want to know that this God, the one that sent His son to die, deeply cares for what is going on in this very real earth. I want to know what He is present--fighting my battles and the battles of those around me until life is restored. I want to believe in hope again.