My hope is not in good health or size 6 jeans,
In saying goodbye to winter and hi to spring.
As much as I look, hope is not found in sleep
Nor in any stability I fight hard to keep.
My hope is not in someone understanding me
Or cultivating a picture-perfect family.
My hope will be crushed if it’s in my own good name
Or writing or blogging to achieve critical acclaim.
My hope is not in a fresh coat of paint on the wall
Or bright, clean floors when guests come to call.
Despite what I think, hope is not in vacations away
Or browsing the aisles of Target alone for the day.
My hope is not in hobbies, passions, work, or play,
Nor in romance, affection, or a wedding day.
I can’t place my hope on that “someday” to come
Whether it’s retirement, change, or some future fun.
My hope is not in invitations or the love of others,
Nor is it in friendship or sisters or brothers.
I can hope all I want that things will stay the same
But, in the end, I will only and always lose at that game.
My hope is not in the husband beside me in life
Nor in the end of the kid’s bickering and strife.
My hope is not in my accomplishments or good deeds
And it’s certainly not in anything that I eat.
Although many of these are good gifts of grace
They are not my hope in this earthly place.
Therefore I don’t have to be crushed or fear,
Nor seek after what is fleeting and try to hold it so near.
You see, my hope is in God, the author of grace.
I listen for His voice and look to His unchanging face.
I call on His name, I look for the move of His hands
I fall on Him, knowing He will help me withstand.
My hope is in God: His character, heart, and death;
His leadership, promises, and soul-giving breathe;
His willingness and ability to seek and to save;
His resurrection, the victory that He won at the grave.
When my hope is in God, not in any other things
I can face each day with peace, whatever it brings
When my hope is not in circumstances or days
I can give thanks and rejoice, come what may.
