Half an ounce of hope

“Yes, my soul, find rest in God: my hope comes from Him.” Psalms 62:5 NIV

“We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.” Hebrews 6:19 NIV

I am a new grandpa, so if I am writing about that too much – can’t help it, and really don’t see a need to stop right now. There are markers in our life. Everyone has them. Before you met your spouse compared to after. Before marriage compared to after. Before kids compared to after.

Not all of them are positive. Before losing my mom and then before losing my dad as well as before and after Mary’s dad died are all on the calendar. Certainly, for us the biggest marker in our life had been before Jordyn died compared to after. Time has bookmarks but some chapters suck. Some, however, are too good to describe. Our little Harlee girl is our newest marker. You should see her. I mean this, that little family may be the closest thing to perfect I have seen.

Birth is neither simple nor easy. Honestly, moving from pre-conception to after conception to full term to delivery is a series of indescribable miracles. The night she was born had it’s share of hard. Anticipation can turn to worry pretty quickly. Worry can turn to fear or to prayer or both. Let’s be honest, even when I am praying, I can be fearful. I know perfect faith drives out fear. But my faith is not perfect.

For months my prayer has had a theme, “Healthy mom, healthy baby, healthy dad”. That night I would have gladly left this earth if it somehow gave her room to get here. I don’t think God has some scale that has to be balanced by give and take, but I don’t think my faith was lacking that He could if needed. I offered, but it is unnecessary. It is humbling to know more than one person outside of our family who was making the same offer to God. Aly is deeply loved.

My wife also went through her back surgery. That’s a procedure you have to see to believe. I am not kidding, more than one screw over six inches long. Plates, more screws plus staples and just injury. After years of trying to avoid it, Mary had the procedure and we brought her home. Someone told us that the third day would be the worst. Actually, on day two the nurse said, “tomorrow will be pretty terrible.” She was right.

I have seen people go through some hard days. I have never seen a day like this past Saturday. She was in more pain than anyone I have ever seen. Most of that day she would have gladly turned back time and not had the surgery. Then she moved her left leg and for the first time in at least four years it did not hurt. Hope.

Then something else happened. I have a nephew in prison. I have written about him before. He does not deny his guilt. He does not deny the sentence he received. My relationship with him is far better now than before prison. He found God in prison and freely admits he would have died a long time ago if he had not been incarcerated. He called me this week. It is the first call in quite a while. Covid has impacted everyone. The entire prison has been essentially in lock down mode for over a year. Isolation 24 – 7. We can discuss the need for punishment. But I listened for 45 minutes to a man who cannot find half an ounce of hope and he has no view of the end of this struggle. We talk about faith. We pray. I can point to it all day, but I do not have the half ounce of hope he needs. He has to find that.

Why put these three events together. The biggest difference I can see is the presence of hope, individually. In spite of the injury of the surgery, the movement pain is no longer there. My wife is the toughest human I have met but I saw little hope on that awful day. That one glimmer of hope she found is all she needed. My daughter is probably the second toughest person I know. One breath was the one glimmer of hope she needed to find.

What is your current battle? If you do not currently have one, eventually you will. What will the source of your hope be, inside of you or inside of me?

Everyone is in a battle. Conversations you think are casual or random can actually be the half ounce someone is trying to find. How often do we consider that possibility?

Challenge: Getting out of bed may not be a battle for you. For some people it is. Fresh air might not be a battle for you. For some people it is. Hope may not be a battle for you. For some people it is. If you have it, spread some of it around. You just might let someone out of prison.

Rick Claiborn