At The Corner of Faith and Hope

I wake up at 5 am.  I stumble over to get my robe, because the 5 am house is freezing.  I grab my wooden banister with both of my hands as I slowly, one foot at a time, descend down the old, creaky stairs.  I do this because my equilibrium is not to be trusted at this hour.  I am still between the land of asleep and awake.

I stumble to the dining room.  All the lights are off.  I prefer it this way.  It’s quiet and it’s dark.  I walk over to my Keurig and hit the power button.  The room is gently bathed in a warm blue glow as the machine starts to warm itself up.

I then walk over to my office and grab my Bible, walk it over and place it on the coffee table in the living room.  I return to the Keurig, placing a black coffee mug carefully under its spout and start the process to create my first cup of morning coffee.  I’m a little more awake now in its very anticipation.

Returning to the living room, I navigate solely by the light of the streetlamp out the window on the abandoned edge of Sumner Park.  It’s more than adequate.  I place the steaming hot coffee down on the coffee table (now justifying its name) right next to the Bible, and sit down on the corner of the leather love seat placed right under the front window.  I fold my arms into their opposite sleeves in an attempt to create a little warmth, although really, I think it’s just an excuse to give myself a early-morning hug.  Sometimes I wrap my legs up criss-cross on the couch so I can support my lower back on the side arm.  I turn to stare out the window at the abandoned Sumner Park.  I take a deep, deliberate breath.

I hold it in for a moment….

And I then release it slowly, intentionally, peacefully.

I have arrived.

I have arrived at the corner of faith and hope.

There’s a sundial at the corner of faith and hope.  It’s a unique item.  It is not designed to tell you the time, or the season.  Time and season are never changing for this object.  It’s a sundial designed for one purpose.  It exists solely to give me a reading of God’s love for me.  I have looked at this sundial in every season of my life.  I have looked at it during the seasons where the sun has shone on my face, and I’ve looked at it when the darkness has clouded my spirit and eyes and mind.  One thing that has aways been true about this place is this…

…the sundial of God’s love is always high noon here at the corner of faith and hope.

I have spent time at this very corner surrounded by a great crowd of witnesses.  I have stood here with some of my favorite people, my dearest friends, my greatest heroes, my most bitter critics, my most loyal partners, my deepest loves.  And I have stood here alone and abandoned.  One thing I have come to know about this place is this…

…you are never alone and abandoned here at the corner of faith and hope.

I will often come with a backpack filled with dreams and visions.  I will take them out one by one and admire them, polish them to a shine, and hold them dangerously near to my heart.  Some of them have grown and thrived, basking in the dim streetlight of that corner.  Some of them have died in my arms, despite my pleading and begging.  Some have been buried amidst a stream of tears right there at that crossroads.  Some of them refuse to stay dead.  One thing that never ceases to amaze me about this place is this…

…resurrection is a precedent here at the corner of faith and hope.

Sometimes in my life I will set up camp here.  Sometimes I never want to leave, but rather forever bask in the light of its early morning glow.  But I always somehow leave.  It’s interesting, however, that no matter how far or fast or frantically that I run, I always seem to be running in some sort of giant circle.   I have been known to try to outrun the need for this place.  I often try to escape the insistence it has on me living a transparent, vulnerable life.  I’ve been known to deny its very existence with a venomous passion, as many as three times in a single night before the rooster’s crow.  The sun will rise and I will find myself instead on an endless desert backroad with nothing but death in either direction.  I’m lost.  Not just lost, but hopelessly lost.  Lost without any chance of finding my way out.  Lost Lost Lost.  I can’t even pray.  Instead my prayer will be the breaking of my heart as I bow my head in failure yet once again.  And then, out of nowhere, I will smell the sweet aroma of breakfast being cooked on the beach by one that has never even considered giving up on me.  In a heartbeat, I am back at that wondrous crossroads once more.   One thing that I will always cling to about this place is this…

…life always begins anew here at the corner of faith and hope.

Look left… It’s God’s grace.  Look right…it’s God’s blessing. I deserve neither yet there they are!!!  So I will wait here until they catch up to me.  I want them to overtake me.  I want them to travel with me wherever I go.  Anointing is not a thing that happens to me.  Anointing is a person that travels WITH me.  Anointing is the very presence and breath of God that first brought me to life.  It’s Him that continues to speak His promises and power in me. Through me.  I am told He will never leave or forsake me.  One thing that I will never forget about this place is this…

…His favor is always flowing here at the corner of faith and hope.

So I take a second deep, deliberate breath.

I hold it in for another moment….

And I then release it slowly, intentionally, peacefully once more.

I’ll stare out the window to the dim streetlight’s glow there at the corner of faith and hope… this corner called love.  I’ll whisper a prayer of thanks to the one who is faithful to always meet me there, morning after morning after morning; His acceptance always sincere, His promises always consistent, and His mercies always new.

I will reach over to the coffee table and take the handle of my coffee cup, lift it to my mouth, and take my first sip.  Sometimes I’ll be genuinely surprised that it has already grown cold.  Sometimes I’ll have to wipe a tear away.  I will reach over to my Bible and open it to where I left off.

Another day has begun here at the corner of faith and hope.

“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.” 1 Corinthians 13:13