This morning started out bright, sun coming up behind our house in confident pink and orange glory. And I, mood highly swayed by the weather, picked out a skirt from my closet to wear and hopped in the shower once the kids were off to school, ready to face the day with energy and focus.
I got dressed in my skirt with a pair of green flats, even played with patterns a bit.
But by the time I fixed my hair, the cul-de-sac was draped over with a gray cloudy blanket and I felt my soul sink a little with it. While I thought the day was going to be all skirt and flats, it turned into sweater and boots.
That lying sunrise.
It’s times like this I find it best not to fight. Just change clothes.
The world and the internet has felt a little like that for me lately – I have a hint of hope, but then cloud cover.
Motivation to do productive work somehow morphs into discouragement.
The desire to practice silence and solitude ends in mind-numbing distraction.
What seemed like a great conversation in the morning leads to second-guessing in the afternoon.
Anyone with me?
I know this colorful mix of joy and grief is all a part of being human. But that doesn’t keep me from wishing the shadows away sometimes.
I’m thankful for hope, the kind that doesn’t expect always sunshine, but the kind that holds on no matter how things appear, the kind that reminds me how I feel about things isn’t the ultimate truth, the kind Ellie Holcomb sings about in one of my favorite songs:
In the shadow
In the sadness
Holy Spirit come.
Won’t you rise up like a promise
On the wings of dawn?
Cause even when the darkness covers me
I settle on the far side of the sea
No matter what I do I can’t outrun your love.
-Ellie Holcomb, Can’t Outrun Your Love
I listen to this song as a way of practicing what I know is true, as a way of remembering the love of God, as a way of hoping in the middle of shadows, as a prayer.
And I grab my sunglasses as I head out the door. Just incase.
A few weeks ago in a newsletter, I hinted that I’ve been working on something I’ve never done before. It’s for anyone who wants to embrace hope no matter how things appear. It’s for the already, the almost, and the not-yet-hopers. It may be for you. And next week, I’m finally going to tell you what it is.
Be sure not to miss next week’s announcement by joining over 10,000 readers who receive Chatting at the Sky delivered into their inbox. Sign up with your email address right here!
What about you? Where do you most need hope these days?