Can you spot the flowers?


To conclude our mission trip to Mexico we had a time of sharing. Highlights. Challenges.

One of my teammates shared the profound. She was struck by the amount of hope demonstrated in unexpected ways. At first glance, all that could be seen was poverty. But as the days progressed, her perspective changed. In the midst of destitution and dirt, hope sprang up. The smiles of children, the wash hanging on the line outside, the bright pink and yellow houses. The tiny patches of flowers in unexpected places.

Small evidences of hope. 

As she was sharing, my perspective was challenged as well. I, who have much in terms of possessions, struggle with hope. It’s not that I don’t believe everything will work out. I do. There is an undercurrent of faith, a confidence that a sovereign God is at work. But faith is not hope. I believe God will work all things out but what do I do in the interim? Do I hope? Do I look expectantly at the good that He has promised? Or do I merely exist. Drawn through life on the tide of faith, never hoping or anticipating that good is close. That God is close and He is good.


My internal dialogue has resembled a grey donkey with a similar grey disposition. “It’s raining again. It always does.” Downcast head and monotone voice. A cuddly donkey burdened by life and void of hope. I’m a lot like Eeyore. Not being like Eeyore takes practice. And it has occurred to me how I am out of practice.


Faith is believing that God is who He says He is and that He will do what He said He will do. And hope, hope is the excited anticipation of seeing just how He will do it. Faith is the soil. It is the foundation. The solid earth we build our lives upon. And maybe hope is the tiny garden of flowers so lovingly tended outside the house that has a dirt floor and no roof. Or maybe hope is the bright blue house surrounded by wreckage, need and hardship.


So today, I pledge to practice hope. To build my life on the foundation of faith. To believe in a God mighty and capable. But also, to take a moment to tend to my garden. The tiny patch of beautiful flowers. To anticipate. To marvel at the creative ways God will bring about His plan. To hope in the unexpected.

Trackback URL

, , ,

2 Comments on "Hope"

  1. Carolyn Zinno
    13/07/2012 at 1:07 pm Permalink

    You have now shared with all of us your pledge (last paragraph, first 3 sentences) you will now be accountable for what you wrote. I love you all much. If you plan to go next year Mike & I would like to go.

  2. Susan Basham
    13/07/2012 at 2:29 pm Permalink

    Sounds like your time there was one of deep growth. I tell all my friends
    to send their kids on mission trips; it changes them so much. For the better. And it changes us, too!

Hi Stranger, leave a comment:


<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>

Unable to load the Are You a Human PlayThru™. Please contact the site owner to report the problem.

Subscribe to Comments