Hope Rise Run

By Amy McClelland

(the woman in our photo)

Small problem. How do I write a post on 'Hope, Rise, Run' when I just cried at the mechanic's? 4.45pm on a Friday afternoon when nobody wants another job, their best offer being to keep the car until Monday which would render me cold, carless, and stranded; and so the lip-quivering, shoulder-shifting sensation starts- 
along with that ever-helpful phrase in the back of my mind 'If only I had a husband.' That valiant spouse who would arrive in his chariot, get the car fixed, and sweep me off into the sunset to comfort me after my minor drama. At least I could be grateful that my hair was long enough to disguise the unsightly tears dropping off the end of my nose as I was bluntly told 'not today.'

Of course it all came good and the tears didn't last; just part of the fabric of everyday life. But as I look at the flyer for Illuminate 2016; the woman standing tall and strong above the city, arms outstretched in freedom or in flight, I think- why can't I be more like her? Because, actually, I am her.

When life throws its stresses and strains (big and small) at us, or it just doesn't look like the plan we had carefully laid out, how do we maintain a heart of hope and keep running with intent? CS Lewis wrote 

'If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world,'

and it makes sense that we are programmed to constantly desire more, when we were created by One who never ceases desiring more for us; but I don't necessarily read Lewis' reflection as a call to passive acceptance of circumstance. Why? Because we are promised 'a hope and a future,' and again, and again, scripture reveals to us that God keeps his promises.

God reminds Joshua (Joshua 1:1-6) that the land he is about to take was 

"just as I promised to Moses," "the land that I swore to their fathers to give them"; 

a reassurance that the step Joshua was about to take was into an inheritance that was already his- but he still had to take it. God tells him, 

"you shall cause this people to inherit the land"

- once more, the promise was always there but it needed someone who was willing to activate it. What if Joshua hadn't trusted? What if he'd resigned himself to accept less than he was destined for? Joshua had 'living hope'. The sort of hope that expects and anticipates the manifestation of things hoped for. He trusted God's promise and bypassed a hopeful 'maybe' to a hope-filled certainty, leading God's chosen people into the promised land.

I want to live hope-filled, expecting the Father to reveal His plans and purposes for my life that go far beyond anything I could imagine. That might involve the previously mentioned husband, children, and it might not. That can sometimes be hard to say (or write), but hope isn't about carrying a shopping list to God. To me, it's having faith to trust that He sees the plan and purpose for my life and to expect to see and hear it revealed to me. The process isn't always shiny and pretty; choosing not to be buried by circumstance, or fears, or feelings can be messy. 

I look at Hannah, who could have lain down when things felt hopeless, but chose to stand and take her burden to the one who made her, rising up in spite of her own feelings. If she hadn't, what would she have missed? I don't want to miss something along the way because I didn't dare hope, because it isn't just about me- hope is contagious and the world is crying out for it.

On Sunday we sang,

'Only You can move the mountains, 

Only You can heal our land, 

Christ alone our hope and glory' (Tim Hughes)

There it is. He is our hope, and when we start to carry the living hope that has been placed within us into the world around us we are lifted out of our own circumstance and into mountain-moving territory. We become part of someone else's story. Someone equally loved, equally important to God, and who he has placed in front of us so we can be the activators of His promise of hope. 

I move the Illuminate 2016 flyer aside and look at my photograph tucked behind; shining little African faces clamouring to be in shot and one translucent redhead in the top corner. All joyful, all hope-full. Two weeks ago I got to speak to an assembly of 400 young people about building a well in Uganda; but more significantly about the power of watering a seed of compassion and releasing hope. When we do this, like the eagle, we can not only rise above the storms in our own lives, but we can use the stormy currents to lift us higher and closer to our Father.

That's my challenge. To remain in His hope; standing over circumstance rather than crumbling under it. Assuming that vantage point and asking for eyes that see and ears that hear where His hope is most needed, closing my ears to my 'If only' and listening out for His 'What if?'. 

We're all in a race, and I want to run it well, but I know there will be challenges. We can stumble, hit rough patches, just run out of steam, and that's when we need our cheerleaders. Not in the showy, rehearsed, sequinned sense; but those women who lead the cheer for other women, who sharpen and encourage, calling out the gold placed within us and illuminating, and holding us accountable to, our real identity when fear tries to crowd in on our faith. 

We're all the woman in the poster; hopeful, expectant, equipped; with a city, a workplace, a family, a nation, placed on our horizon and waiting for a release of hope that will rise amidst promise.

'but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.' Isaiah 40:31