My Strength: Letting Hope Exist

I read this post the other day, on a blog I regularly read, and the last little bit struck me:

I think depriving myself of hope was the wrong idea too. I was trying to protect myself. Trying to save myself the hurt of another failed cycle.

But it’s not me.

And so, I am going to let myself hope. I am going to let myself believe in that pinch I felt today. Starting tomorrow, I am going to have faith when I pee on those sticks. I am going to lay my hands on my stomach and speak to those ice babies of mine. I am going to open my heart up to them, and let myself love them. Even before I know if they are real or not.

Knowing that the more I let myself hope, the more I could be setting myself up for hurt.

But that God will be my strength.

I am going to trust in God to be my strength, because clearly I don’t have it in me to do alone.

Clearly I’m not strong enough on my own.

God is my strength.

And we've got this. 

It was challenging to read this.  I've been realizing that there have been things where I haven't wanted to hope.  That I haven't wanted to admit that I long for.  Where I haven't wanted to trust that if they didn't go the way I long for deep within me, that I would still be okay.

God's been reminding me to long for things again.  To trust him even with the things I want so badly, I'd rather admit I don't want them, for fear of the pain if they don't happen. 

I  started to realize that I needed to be willing to trust, even with this, the last few weeks as I rode the bus every day, reading, thinking and praying.  That funny little routine began to dawn on me about a week in as I slowly noticed just which route I'd chosen.  The places the route circles through include at least four connected to things I'm dreaming about.  And I sat and prayed and began to allow myself to really long for those dreams.  To not downplay them the way I'd been doing.

And so, I'm letting hope exist.  And reminding myself again that God is my strength.