Blowing the seeds off the dandelion stem, I watched hopes float though the air until they disappeared or fell back to the ground. Hope had become the knot in the end of the rope for me. I hoped tomorrow would be better but it wasn’t. I hope that the dark cloud of despair and depression would disappear but it didn’t.
I spent most of my teen years believing my happiness would come when I was older. I looked forward to each birthday to be the one that would bring the change. I believed, every single year, was going to be the time my hope would be fulfilled. But it wasn’t. So many times it wasn’t. I would walk around with a smile painted on but really I was drowned in the tears I had held back for so long.
There came a point in time when I just stopped pretending. I stopped painting the smile on. I stopped hoping for healing and I started to just accept it as my lot in life. This isn’t to say I didn’t have moments of real smiles. Times of laughter and even month of happiness. However. I stopped hoping for more, for joy and for contentment.
Emily Dickinson said “hope is a thing with feathers”. We often think of hope like the dandelion seeds of life, light and fluffy floating in the wind. In my experience, there are days when hope was simply too weighty to bear. I simply could not hold on to the hope while continually waking up with a mind torn by its own thoughts.
The hope I tried so desperately to hold on to was like sand sifting through my finger. It was a fleeting thing wrapped in fleshly desires.
During another night of insomnia floor pacing with darkened thought filling my head, I cried out to the God of my youth. I remembered when He was my Hope. Slowly, it was not too much for me to hold because I began to just let Hope hold me.
My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness;
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
But wholly lean on Jesus’ name.
When darkness veils His lovely face,
I rest on His unchanging grace;
In ev’ry high and stormy gale,
My anchor holds within the veil.
His oath, His covenant, His blood,
Support me in the whelming flood;
When all around my soul gives way,
He then is all my hope and stay
When He shall come with trumpet sound,
O may I then in Him be found,
Dressed in His righteousness alone,
Faultless to stand before the throne.
On Christ, the Solid Rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand,
All other ground is sinking sand.