I don’t know about you but I know that for me there are periods in life where life itself can only be described as a soul sickness.

An illness that penetrates the very marrow of your being and demands that you pay attention to it.  Demands that you acknowledge the existence of a darkness inside of you, a death of dreams you once had, a defeat of living life fully.  This illness is one you can ignore for long periods but at some point it requires your assessment.  Because if you are not willing to admit the gradual strain that has been weighing you down, very soon, you will find that you are so far down in the pit , that you no longer know the way to get out.

I have never spent too much time thinking about hope.  To me, it has been this semi-distant, elusive thing that sometimes just happens.  It is there and gone, fleeting and futile.  Yet, there is this new awakening arising in me.  A new birth of admitting that hope is born out of a willingness to trust.  Hope in its essence cannot exist without the ability to have faith in something.  And I wonder.  Is this soul sickness also born out of a lack of hope.  A lack of trusting who I am, who I believe in, what I am standing for, breathing for, existing for?

Is this lack of hope why my reality makes my heart ache with a longing and pain I can’t describe; while in the same beat pulling me to my knees with a desire to live my current reality fiercely and faithfully.  If hope in its essence requires faith then the answer I am seeking can only lie in one place.

There is only ONE.  One person has saved me fully, loved me perfectly, gifted me extravagantly, desired me entirely, sought me continually and made a way in me.  If I continue to seek a way to hope that doesn’t include the One way, then I will never find myself exiting this pit of despair and rising into the glorious riches I have been promised.  So today friend, if you find your heart weary, your soul sick, I beckon you to venture with me in drawing near to the God who saves.

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