Bold, Scandalous Hope

Ok. So I think I've had a revelation. Not one that I haven't had before... but somehow it seems to have more stick power, and less emotion driven as previous "yay-God-type" revelations. Ever since my bff Angela mentioned the lack of a "Bold Hope" driving back from Greenville, the ring of that phrase hasn't left my brain. There are so many reasons to be cynical. Countless reasons. It is absolutely justifiable to be hard, and cold and self-protective and to look out for number one. It really makes a lot of sense. Good advice from the 'wiser' older to the younger. Watch out for you, because no one else will. My spirit is crushed daily with the weight of this world, I stood at the polls today wanting to kick the booth over with angst for the lack of real solutions, I see the droves of homeless around Monty's loft and I want to get a bull horn and chant "GET A JOB" out the side of the car, but I also want to make them sandwiches, but I don't want them to mug me. (How awful am I?), I want to take the fowl mouthed people who yell at each other on the reality shows and I want to force them to watch video of themselves while tied to a chair, but I keep watching them while not tied to anything. I want all politicians put in a boxing ring in sumo suits with built in tasers and let them fight to the death. I want fat people to be thin, I want emaciated people to eat, I want the sick to be healed and I want wrong to be RIGHT. But how? It's overwhelming to the perfectionist in me that says ALL or NOTHING. But there is one BIG giant reason to be hopeful. And that reason is that God is at work. And the God of scripture DOES have power and has purpose and is all that is good and light in the world. It is all things worth forwarding in an e-mail that warm your heart, it's all things that are so beautiful, that stand out against the stark white cold hardness of the world we live in. They are often very small things. The diary of Anne Frank was a very small thing. Very small words from a little teenaged girl, in the midst of a hurricane of hate and tragedy. Those whispered words spoke much louder and lasted much longer than the Hilters did. The trials of Martin Luther King Jr. who was up against violence and hate whose voice now rings out victoriously in a world that more and more (I feel) sees people being judged by the content of their character. In a backyard example...I see men like Monty. He may be unpolished on the surface..the things he says make me cringe sometimes, he may have scary tattos, but his heart is one that is beautiful. He loves people who can't love him back. He loves people who have hurt him.. loves them radically, even monitarily and wouldn't imagine playing it any other way. He cares for people whose lives are messy, and he gets into the mess for them. He loves freely and often and doesn't count costs before deciding to love. He isn't ruled by fear. Period. He isn't concerned with appearances, says what he thinks and isn't afraid to be wrong. He feels things and isn't afraid to feel what he's feeling, fully and completely. Isn't afraid to chase after a girl who dumped him. Is isn't afraid of anything really..except God. Mmkey that was a mush-fest-over...sorry. With all of the examples I could give of the merits of hoping, of trying. I still I see people, including myself, plugging into a world that wont heal. It refuses medicine, it refuses love, it refuses to drink, it refuses to breathe. I get too smart for myself sometimes because i don't "see" God working. Or it seems better and smarter to play the odds that things are going to turn out badly, that people are going to hurt you and that life is going to dissappoint you terribly if you start getting this "hoping" notion into your head. Can we rise up? We are engaged in an epic battle (oh geez John Eldridge...) and it is a grand shame that i forget it so often, because I'm surrounded by smart people who don't believe. People I admire for their brains and talent, who can't see what I can see. And it, honestly, makes me feel a bit stupid. It makes the little girl in me stick her chin out and fold her arms and choke back hot angry tears. B-but he IS real. Why wont you see? Oh ok, to maintain the 'coolness' factor, I'll take my God down a notch. I'll what? Am I serious? I can do no such thing. May God not smite me. I can't because it isn't true. It shames me to say that these are my thoughts. I pound the nails in further. My revelation is this. It's ok to hope. It's the better deal. And I'm going to...damn it. Don't care who thinks I'm a Pollyanna. I don't care. I have reason for hope. I mean the Cardinals won a freakin' World Series this year... ANYTHING is possible... ;)