Basking in gratitude

I was chatting online with a friend of mine the other day. We chat very rarely, but whenever we do it's pretty intense: Glen is not the kind of guy who digs superficial chatter. Ever.

We were discussing things we had learned, those lessons that keep presenting themselves to you until you've finally learned what you needed to learn from them. I brought up my perception that I'm going through a refining fire where my faith is being tested, specifically in regards to relationships. I have this fear that I'll always be alone, and it's ever present. I shared that I didn't know how to cope with it. It's a fear that I, though I didn't notice it until my chat with Glen, have turned into a rule. The rule goes like this: Megan will always be alone. You see, it's easier that way. Then I know what will happen and will never do anything "wrong," I feel like I'm in control, and I don't get hurt. Amazing! How brave am I?

He shared Proverbs 10:24 with me:

"The fears of the wicked will be fulfilled;
the hopes of the godly will be granted."

He also let me know in no uncertain terms that I could not hold on to this fear. And I saw that he was right. I saw that in carrying around this fear, I had become enslaved by it. It prevented me from hoping and thus from having any of my hopes granted.

The thing is, it takes a lot of courage for me to hope. It turns out that hope hurts- it stings. Hope reminds me of all I've lost, all I want but don't have. Hope is dangerous. Because what happens when my hopes are dashed? Lots of ouchie is what happens. My heart swells with hope and joy and potential, and then all of those things fall flat, and I'm left with a mess to clean up. But why does hope hurt me so much when God intended it for good?

It turns out that I've done a pretty good job with mishandling hope- I turn it into fantasy and then rely on that hope/fantasy instead of God. As it turns out, that doesn't work so well- that is what has really hurt me. It is from this particular habit of mine that I learned that it was wrong to hope because I am always let down by hope.

But that's not necessarily the case. I hoped for a house, and I've got one. I hoped for growth in every aspect of my life, and I have grown and am growing a LOT. I hoped to make my living as a dancer, and I'm doing that, if only part time. And there's even more than what I've hoped for! I've realized that I don't want my life to revolve around dance - I want a more full, whole life than that. And that's a realization I have resisted for years now, but in hoping for wholeness and restoration, that's where I am - the last place I thought I wanted to be. Now I have a new hope of being a farmer. Who'd have thunk it?

I am grateful to be in this fragile place of hope again. It is truly bold for me to hope instead of fear, and I hope. I hope for relationship. I hope for fulfillment in every way, not just in dance. I hope that God really wants to give me the desires of my heart like He says He does. I hope though it may pain me in its lack. I hope.