“…and my hope has he pulled up like a tree.”
“He breaks me down on every side, and I am gone, and my hope has he pulled up like a tree.”
A heavy sigh and my forehead down on the steering wheel seems to be my stress reaction as of late. As the busyness and chaos encircle me, I find these small gestures offer a bit of release. This week definitely required some release; release from the grief of losing a mentor, release from the unexpected of letting a new relationship go, release from trying new places and events, and release from uncontrollable waiting. And, all around me I hear the phrase and witness, “my spirit is crushed,” from the people around me.
The first thing to disappear is hope and as the frustration progresses, hope is as if it is uprooted.
But, once I was home, my roommate D met me with enthusiasm. She quickly showed me two sunflower seeds. Last year, she had grown a huge sunflower. So large in fact she would have to hold it up for pictures and when she decided to get rid of it it was so strong she had to dig it up from the roots. Thinking it was completely gone, the new seeds this year were a surprise.
Just when she thought it was gone, there was still a remnant of it left, a glimmer of it.
I think that’s how it is with hope. I thought “my hope had been pulled up like a tree,” but as I keep moving, and praying, and striving, I realize there is still a remnant there, and it has nothing to do with me.
You see that same passage I quoted above doesn’t end there:
“For I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last he will stand upon the earth. And after my skin has been thus destroyed, yet in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see for myself, and my eyes shall behold, and not another.” – Job 19:25-26
Even when all my hope is gone, my frustration is overbearing, or the chaos consumes me, I can pause and know my Redeemer lives.