Hope

Saturday, December 14, 2013 (6:40 a.m.)

Blessed Father,

Good morning. I love You. Where do we begin?

(7:20 a.m.)

I've been wandering this morning. Aimlessly. Looking here. There. Ah, but here we are together. Jeremiah 17:1-14. Hope

Speak to me Father. Guide and direct my thoughts. Let me know what You have me for me to learn and share this day.

Shall I confess my flakiness here of late? The seeming inability to stay committed to any given task? Intentions run amuck.

(7:55 a.m.)

I look to Your Word Blessed Father. I breathe deeply. I experience peace. There is hope written into these passages. Hope that transcends explanation. Father, thank You.

I came to this section of Scripture because of the word 'aimless'. You described to Jeremiah (17:5-6) “the strong one who depends on mere humans, Who thinks he can make it on muscle alone and sets God aside as dead weight. He's like a tumbleweed on the prairie, out of touch with the good earth. He lives rootless and aimless in a land where nothing grows.”

You went on illustrating to him (vs. 7-8) “the man who trusts in the Lord and has made the Lord his hope and confidence. He is like a tree planted along a riverbank, with its roots reaching deep into the water – a tree not bothered by the heat nor worried by long months of drought. Its leaves stay green, and it goes right on producing it luscious fruit.”

Which do I most want to represent to You? No contest! Give me a riverbank and deep roots over a tumbleweed on a prairie any day! Thank You Father that we have these choices to make!

Verses 9 and 10 sum up my hope with You today very nicely. “The heart is hopelessly dark and deceitful, a puzzle that no one can figure out. But I, God, search the heart and examine the mind. I get to the heart of the human. I get to the root of things. I treat them as they really are, not as they pretend to be.”

So here I am Blessed Father, placing my hope in You. Asking You to change me right here where I sit. Not wandering. Aimlessly. Provide me with all I need to live this day as You would have me. With purpose. Direction. And hope.

Father, I love You. I thank You. And I ask You to use me this day as You wish. Thank You Father. I love You. Amen.

(416 words ~ 8:17 a.m.)