in the zone.

Have you ever had a moment where your life seemed to suddenly make sense? As if all the pain, confusion, crap in life all of a sudden brought forth the most real, authentic image of a feeling you thought was only fictitious ? A feeling so surreal that feeling it for only ten minutes could keep you hoping and believing for a lifetime?

I have had a few moments like that in my life. One in particular tonight. I think many things contributed to it (not in the least a very moving episode of grey's anatomy), but nevertheless I am up at 3 am after taking Lunesta trying my best to keep this feeling from dying. Holding into every moment I can squeeze out of tonight. So often I'm afraid waking will make it as though the feeling was never there, as if I didn't grasp full ahold of life for that moment. 

I don't have much to say, I am in a zone. I am in a zone physically, spiritually, and emotionally I would devote my entire life to. If only every component of our thoughts, intentions, spirits, and bodies were so aligned every day, in every decision...

Eclipse.

I suppose it comes as no surprise to anyone who remotely knows me that I would write a blog on the latest Hollywood installment of Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series. I realize these movies have developed something of a cult-like following because of teenage infatuation with the forbidden story of vampires and werewolves falling in love with a human, but to me this story has touched a profound, even spiritual chord.

First, I should start by saying I do not read fiction. I had not finished a fiction book since reading Jane Austen at the age of thirteen until I graduated from college. Under the advice of a well-educated friend who  said reading fiction is critical for the analytical mind, otherwise the mind would "explode," I picked up Stephanie's first book after being intrigued by the advertisements for the first movie.

What I found in the pages of this book wasn't necessarily life-altering. I didn't start dreaming of a pale, perfect boy suddenly wisking me away to a world of immortality while telling me he would never change a single thing about me. I didn't wish I had the power to read the minds of those around me. (It didn't work out too well for Mel Gibson after all.) These stories resonated with my soul, because I felt often like I could have written them.

I relate not to Bella, the plain, human girl who is torn between love for two seemingly perfect men. I am drawn to the fierceness of the love that Edward and Jacob share for her. Protective, selfless, unrelenting, unchanging. Like a magnetism between their souls. Both these characters have no greater desire than to see Bella safe. Their ambition has nothing to do with their own personal gain, happiness, or even the thought of winning some prize against the other. In a world seemingly consumed with failed marriage, heartbreak, and one night stands; I can't help but wonder if I am the only one who still believes love conquers all?

It seems to me that society is so fixated on having what they want when they want it, people are often dating simply because the person lives near them, or marrying simply because they feel it is time in their life to settle down. Relationships begin and end at warp speed, married to the idea of personal pleasure and happiness. When some obstacle gets in the way of our mindless, simple relationships, we bail for something we know will not cause us pain. I have often asked myself after witnessing friend's divorce only months-a few years into their marriages if they truly loved the person they bound their life to, or the idea of love, the idea of security, the idea of companionship, or if they were terrified at the thought of being alone.

I have dated my share of guys, rushed in when I should have taken a second look, listened to the people in my life telling me what a good idea it was, but I don't know if I can truly say I have been in a healthy, mutually loving relationship. It is difficult to find someone who views the idea of companionship, mutual partnership, grounded in the idea that love is something so rare, beautiful, and sacred that once you've found it you are a fool to ever let it go. Although I don't think I have experienced this fierceness in a romantic relationship (probably because I've dated the wrong guys), I have tasted love's fire.  I know my capacity to love.

I have seen it played out in my relationships with friends who I would rather let blaitently hurt me than turn my back on them. I see it in the way my language describes that thing we are all seeking. I am always drawn to the surreal, not necessarily practical characters in books and movies. I choose to believe that love is something that finally convinces the individual to say, "Okay, it really isn't all about me."

Like in the movie, I am not searching the world for a man who would bow at my feet, take a bullet for me, or give me everything I want. In many ways that is the opposite of my longing. Like Edward, to simply be able to love someone so much, knowing full well they might hurt you (because they are only human), or leave you (because humans make stupid decisions), knowing that person is safe is the only thing that dominates you mind. Being able to love them is what you get high off of, not necessarily getting that love in return.

I am reminded of the story of Hosea and Gomer in the Old Testament, and the shadow it gives of Israel and Yahweh, and of Christ and the Church. Regardless of how many times the bride turns her back on her beloved, she is never forgotten. She is never cast out. Mercy resonates through love. I hate to think of how many times I have behaved like Gomer in my relationship to the Almighty, and maybe my realization of my personal failure is what has given me the capacity to believe in something larger than what popular culture and 95% of the population is looking for and failing to find.

The love of God is impossible to understand, fathom, or comprehend. In much the same way the human love I hope and dream of is difficult to understand with eyes viewing only the natural. In Eclipse, Bella tells Edward that she truly does love Jacob, a truth she had been running from. She counters this statement by saying, "But I love you more." Edward doesn't flench, grow mad, or demand she never speak to Jacob again. He simply assures her, "I know," and trusts her love is enough to keep her in his arms. Did it hurt Edward? I'm sure. Was Hosea heartbroken by Gomer's unfaithfulness. Is God not jealous the idols we daily place in front of our devotion to Him? No. But the story here mirrors the love God has for us. He knows our flesh is weak, he knows we will love other things, the only request is that we love Him more. Always, forever, and that that love would outflow into our lives so that eventually our lives become aligned with what we love the most.

That love is not often found in human kind. A love with absolute trust and faith. I have heard so many love stories of couples separated by war and distance, who never wavered in their devotion. Writing beautiful, handwritten letters to their beloved after months, even years of absence. Distance seems to be the nail in the coffin of so many potential friendships and loves in our society. If we cannot have what we want now, we don't want it at all...even if the wait is well worth it in the end.

We know the story, Bella choses Edward. Bella asks to be changed, not so she can live forever, but so she too can protect her beloved. Not to extend her life, but His.

It makes me think there is something worth holding out for.

But for the record. I am team Alice/Jasper.

solo.

When you are a performer, like me, you are always aiming for a solo. You are always dreaming of going out on your own, center stage, spotlight on, every mind in the audience focused, for a few moments on your gift. Spotlights are not easily shared among artists of any kind, and I would be lying to say I do not long for that feeling, the adrenaline of knowing you can't mess up, the affirmation of applause. In our own way, I think we all search for our own spotlight, regardless of where the curtain may be.

I started thinking about this tonight as I was unable to get to sleep. The idea of doing something alone. The idea of getting all the credit. Sure, it might be a great feeling for five minutes, but it is no way to live your life. Even Miss "Center of Attention," Bre understands this all too well.

I have been in a very low place in my life lately. Not that anything is necessarily going wrong, but just high-stress, physically exhausted, and frustrated with my current place in life. Not that I'm complaining about any of these things. Not necessarily that I am unhappy, but overly extended and stressed beyond what I feel my body is able to handle. Too many things to be done in days that seem to pass like light years. Nevertheless the greatest enemy I have to combat daily isn't College Algebra or Psychological Statistics, it isn't the annoying doctor's visits to fulfill all my requirements for nursing school. Rather it is loneliness.

Mother Theresa once said that, "loneliness is the greatest poverty." That is saying something who devoted her entire life to living among the poorest people on planet earth. Even she recognized that that which bankrupts your spirit is far more painful than that that bankrupts your wealth. Humans were made for relationship, it's built into our DNA...it goes all the way back to Eden. God did not make us to live alone, in a box, or continually center-stage without other players in the production of life. This feeling pervades more now than I can remember at any other stage in my life. Maybe it is because so many friends are getting married and starting their own lives, or perhaps because I am back in a vulnerable place living at home, maybe it's just a lack of sleep or lack of carbohydrates in my diet. Regardless of what it is, it is hard to get away from the burning longing for companionship, to have someone to share life with, to talk to, to laugh with.

Henry Rollins said, "Loneliness adds beauty to life. It puts a special burn on sunsets and makes night air smell better." I don't know if I necessarily agree with him because right now the night air isn't smelling any too sweet, but I do believe that the feeling of loneliness reminds us of our mortality, of our need for people and makes us pause before we neglect the people and relationships we have been blessed with in life. What is so remarkable about my feelings of loneliness is the volume of people in my life who care about me. I can be in a room full of 300 people who genuinely care about and love me, but still feel absolutely, intrinsically alone. As if the type of companion I am looking for cannot be found in an ordinary group of people. Am I looking for someone who shares the same soul-feelings I do? Or is it something spiritual? Is it mystic in its origins? I think it might be a combination of all three.

I have a bicycle. Anyone who lives nearby probably has heard me singing the songs of "Glee" riding down the road on my white and teal Schwinn with a white basket on a summer evening. Very few days go by in the summer that I do not spend time riding my bicycle. I guess you could say it is one of the few places I can escape these haunting feelings of loneliness. Where I live is at the base of a hill. In order for me to bike anywhere, I have to start by riding up a fairly steep hill for several blocks. Once I get past the hill, there are several more housing editions built on the extension of this hill that make up my bike route. There have been so many times I have taken out on my bike-ride and wanted to turn around and go home. Days when I am tired, or am focusing on the cares of life rather than enjoying the nature around me, the music in my ears, and the lack of real-life on my bicycle. Riding uphill is not fun, it hurts my knees, it strains my thighs, it makes my lungs burn for air...it's hard, and if all biking were uphill I probably would just put the Schwinn in storage I hate to say.

Sometimes I feel like my entire life is uphill. Friends disappoint you, relationships don't work out, the stresses of work and school seem to overwhelm you, you spend more time with your parents now than you did when you were ten it seems. (not saying that's a bad thing, love you mom and dad!) But you feel alone. Like there is no one else in the world that understands what it is like to be singing a solo aria for 25 years on end, to be riding a bike up a steep hill with no relief in site. Let me tell you about the rest of my bike ride...

After I finish my lap through the city park and the two housing editions on the hill a few times, I start to get excited. For a mile and a half, from my mom's parents house to my dad's parents house, I don't ride my bike. I glide, barely ever peddling down the hills I have just climbed. The light breeze on a hot summer day whipps my hair out of my face, and to compare that feeling, I might as well be flying. There is little I could compare this feeling to. I ride probably thirty minutes for the euphoria of the five where I get to ride downhill, but that's enough. I get through with my ride ready to workout again, not because I've burned calories, but because of how it makes me feel. To accomplish something, to trade something hard for something exhilarating.

Here's the thing. Just like riding my bike. Life isn't going to be downhill the whole way. Sure, we might wish it was, but that just isn't how life works. Right now I have to admit, I feel like I've been going solo, riding uphill for a long time, with little relief in sight. I get tired, worn out, sometimes wonder why I even try working as hard as I do without stopping. I miss my friends who are married, I wish I were in love...but once I get off my soap box long enough to think I could realize what Paul Tillich once said so beautifully, "Language...has created the word "loneliness" to express the pain of being alone. And it has created the word "solitude" to express the glory of being alone."

How long has it been since I truly rejoiced in my current place in life? That I am without attachment and could devote myself fully to being the best at what I do and who I am to be? To truly make a difference for the Kingdom of God as a single 20-something year old girl? To not worry about taking care of those to whom I am attached, but to dedicate my life to celebrating the downhill ride that will come if I wait out this time of testing, of loneliness?

So here I am, 1:10 am, I need to be asleep. I have a lot of work to do tomorrow, a lot of peddling uphill. So I will leave it at that. There isn't necessarily a happy resolution to my words tonight because I need to practice what I preach. I need to rejoice in solitude...but it is so hard. I will, however tell you one thing:

Hindsight is always 20/20. And I wouldn't enjoy riding downhill nearly as much if my muscles weren't aching from the strain they went through to get me to the top of that hill. Those trough periods make us who we are. To skip over them would be grave...as hard as it is for me to say this.

Thats all.

Promise

I promise to blog as soon as this terrible school week is over. I have so much to share.

God is great.

tony.

If you have known me for any period of time, you are aware of the object of my dearest affection. The thing I would walk over hot coals to hold. The thing which has motivated me to often press beyond adversity to pursue...often at the expense of other's opinions of me. Tony. That beautiful, wonderful thing that would make my life complete...if only.

In case you are completely out of the loop of my social networking, no, I'm not talking about a boy named Anthony, but rather the most coveted prize in all of musical theatre. The Tony Award. The Tony's are my world cup, my super bowl, my Miss America. Once a year my small-town girl TV glitters with all that is Broadway, from Kristin Chenoweth giving a passionate kiss to Sean Hayes, to Matthew Morrison's triple-threat performance. What can I say, I love the Tony's. I justify staying home from church the Sunday night they come on, vegg out in front of my television, and am transported to a different world for three hours. A world where I can break into song in a classroom without reprimand, or fall in love with Matthew Morrison eight times a week. ;) Theatre, music...these simply components make up so much of my life, take so much of my time, bring so much happiness.

So tonight I want to write to you, my dear friends about something very dear to my heart, the idea of creativity. Many times I feel we divorce our creative natures for means of being practical. What's more, we do not seek ways to incorporate that which is birthing inside us into our lives, our character, and ultimately our Christian walk.

When I was a little girl, my greatest dream was to be on stage (still is to a great extent), I craved to come to live when the spotlight hit my cue. I never felt more alive than when I was on a stage, performing. As most of you know medical reasons and fate kept me from ever pursuing my dream of being a Broadway Diva, but circumstance does not determine the death of my gift, my art, my creative passion.

Perhaps the reason I love watching the Tony's so much is to see, if even for only a few hours, a group of people devoted to what they love. Dedicated to a craft, singular in focus. How many times do we give up the thing our heart beats for for mediocrity? In my opinion the thing which makes your heart beat fast, and keeps you awake at night because it is tugging at your heart is the first step any Christian also must take in finding the calling of God on their lives.

I know so many artists who struggle to find their place in the world, a way to express themselves, because they cannot support themselves by their art. So often we turn our back upon the thing we love the most because we know it will not make us a fruitful living. We have heard enough people say we "aren't good enough," that we start to believe them and, instead, settle for a life of mediocrity without ever fully being engaged in whatever work we are doing.

I have often written of how God has a specific calling, an ultimately creative dream of every one of His children. It is our choice whether we accept it or not. I know the dream God had for my life started somewhere and is ending up somewhere I never would have expected. A place far greater than the Tony awards (although if I ever do have children I am 150% certain they will be thanking me in an acceptance speech at the Tonys), a place where only I can go, a place of supreme creativity, flowing with the power of God, my calling.

I am reminded of Ezekiel in the last chapter of his prophecy, looking beyond all the struggles, trials, heartaches, and bitter tears which must be endured by God's elect. He looked beyond satan's fury to the church's final triumph and conquest. In this chapter Ezekiel describes the fullness of the New Jerusalem, saying:

The circumference of the city shall be 18,000 cubits. 

And the name of that city shall be from that time on,

THE LORD IS THERE.

The literal translation of "Jehovah Shammah" is just that, THE LORD IS THERE. Even when Ezekiel knew he would never see the New Jerusalem in his lifetime, the Lord was there. The Lord was there as Ezekiel creatively wrote the circumference of the city to be a perfect, exact, and exceedingly large. Larger than the troubles of Israel or the size of her enemies. He spoke peace to the children of Israel and he speaks peace to us tonight that, even if your dream seems crazy, it is there for a reason. No, it might not come in your lifetime, you may never see the fruit, but you can contribute a very important narrative to this story that began with Adam and will end in the New Jerusalem. What is important is to know this, THE LORD IS THERE. Wherever your destination is, he is already there. Wherever you are tonight, He is there.  

Creativity is not something we lose when we chose the life of a disciple, but rather something to be embraced. Who knew the emotion of the human existence greater than Christ Himself who felt everything a human feels, yet without sin? We are ultimately creative because we were created by the Ultimate Creator. I urge you to release the creativity God has given you, and use it for His glory. Find the place that makes you most alive, and begin to view that place as an altar of worship to the Divine Creator

What is that place? Where do you feel the most alive? Where do you wake up with ideas to accompany your pursuit of your dream? A very wise professor once told me, "Your calling is where your greatest desires and the world's greatest needs intersect." For some it might be to preach, or teach, or be a plumber. But for many it comes with musical scores, films, photographs, writing, painting, art, and the performing arts. The thing most important is that you view it as what it is, a calling. Something Heaven has blessed you to excel in, to express with, and something that gives you a voice and megaphone to proclaim the glory of the Creator. Oliver Wendall Holmes once said, "Every calling is great when it is greatly pursued."

I write this blog as a performing artist who understands that my ability to even sing, to practice my art is a miracle of God. There are always obstacles on the way to fulfilling your calling, but every calling is worth the risk, be it the risk of failure, or the risk of other's opinions. You are never more yourself, never more alive than when you are functioning in the fullness of a God-centered calling. Doing what you love as an act of worship.

I was particularly moved by Viola Davis's acceptance speech for best actress in a play tonight and I will leave you with this:

I do not believe in luck or happenstance. 

I absolutely believe in the presence of God in my life

I was born into a circumstance where I couldn't see it with my eyes,

I couldn't touch it with my hands, so I had to believe it in my heart.

Hidden deep within your heart is something you can't see, can't touch, but yet is so real it was written on your heart the day you were born. It is your place. It is your calling. And it will never reach it's full potential without the presence of God. 

God made you who you are for a reason, with all your quirks and insecurities, He still views you as the apple of His eye. If God can use this eclectic, loud-mouthed, show-tune singing preacher's daughter from Western Oklahoma to speak to nations, I have no doubt he has even greater things in store for you. And no, it may not always look like what you thought it would (a Tony award), but in the end I know you will rest saying, "God's ways truly were higher than my own.

Let us live our lives with creativity, purpose, ever thanking God to be artists, ultimately creative because we were created by the Ultimate Creator. Let us greatly pursue our callings to make our callings great, and who knows, maybe someone reading my blog one day will win a Tony award???

p.s. if it is you, I get to be your plus one.

Lola.

So for those of you looking to find an uplifting sermonette from Ms. Little, this probably isn't the blog for you.  I was sitting here, attempting to find inspiration when I hear a scratching at my door. I open the door to let my father's one and a half-pound dog in my room. Lola is her name and she is extremely upset at current moment. My father is doing missions work in Brazil and she is lacking for constant attention. You would never imagine that something so small could make as much noise as this dog is making right now, barking at me. When I try to pick her up, she runs away like she wants to play a game of chase. I do not know how I am going to get anything done tonight with the assistance of Lola. Isn't it always the smallest things in life that eat us up, take all our attention, and make us want to pull our hair out?

Life has been absolutely insane over the past few weeks. Come to think of it, the past few years have been nothing but a continual stream of sugar-free red-bull and movement from one place in life to another. Regardless of how accustomed I become to the stresses of life, it always seems the next place holds more stress, more responsibility, and less sleep.

This summer I am preparing for nursing school and taking two classes. Normally this would be something of a break from the 19 hours and two jobs of last semester, but one thing is different...College Algebra. Satan in materialized form. The brimstone of hell brought straight to my meager existence Monday-Thursday at 9:25. There is something important to know about Algebra and Bre, we go way back. I remember taking a bullet-pointed list to the Registar of SNU with about twelve reasons why it would be more beneficial for me to take an upper-division science class than this horrendous rite-of-passage required of college freshmen. I remember thinking I had tricked the system, that I was the smoothest talker that school had ever seen. All this was great until I decided to get a degree that could actually get me a job... and the Registar this time refused to budge.

So, stubborn Bre is stuck in the first class I legitimately can say I cannot understand after eight years of higher education. Sometimes there really is not an easy way out. I have spent three hours a night doing algebra homework this week and it appears this is the rhythm my summer will take. Thank the Lord for the computer program I just downloaded which seems to help with my homework...now if only i could bring my laptop to the exams. ;)

Other than school my summer isn't any too exciting. I am planning to make an appearance at ILA, but that might be changed due to the nature of the school week. I just have to make it through this summer and I will be on to nursing school, helping others, and being one step closer to what I feel my purpose in life being accomplished...

Oh, Lola is still barking.

hope.

I am the queen of big dreams. Large, unrealistic, impossible things that I want to see happen. Albeit, the vast majority of these dreams are short lived. I once wanted to be a concert pianist until I delved into a Rachmaninoff piece. I was certain for years that I would marry Prince William, simply to have my dreams violently crushed by Kate Middleton. Needless to say, many of the ideas I have pop into my head are short lived, and with good reason. They have little bearing to reality. They are fun for a moment, but they are not soul feelings, not spirit desires.

I think again to the things I desire most. Many of them are as unrealistic, as outlandish to the outside world as my nuptials to Prince William. Why is it, then, that I continue to hold onto the belief that they will one day happen? From my desire to see teenage girls free from the bonds of eating disorders and destructive self-image mindsets, to my quest to find love against all odds, why are there some, seemingly impossible desires that I cannot drive away? Some things I have others try to talk me out of on a daily basis. Sometimes I think they are right. I mean I do have a minor in philosophy and most logicians would agree that I am far from thinking in the realms of reality on these issues. Still...there is a nagging ache within my heart that tells me to believe despite all my better judgement, beyond all the voices screaming from the outside... because there is a place where logic and intellect fail, and hope takes over. Hope takes over because some things are so beautiful, so big, so transcendental that they offer a place for a modern-day miracle, something that defies the laws of location, place, time...and our better judgement.

William Sloan Coffin once said, "Hope arouses, as nothing else can arouse, a passion for the possible." A burning desire to believe in something greater than your capacity, greater often than what we believe our calling is. Something so great, so mighty. A feeling so rare and inexplicable that we have no choice but to call it divine. As if Heaven has made an allowance to let us feel part of it's splendor. Simply to think about the possibility of this hope brings life to us. Nourishes us. Pushes us through seemingly impossible odds, walls, circumstances, and critics, just to get a chance to try.

Do  you know this feeling? I believe at some point we all do. The weight of a God-given calling. The intensity of a love that seems so impossible, yet so immediate. The inner knowing that you must give of yourself, even at the risk of being hurt. Although we are daily called to new, to greater things...there are those moments, those desires that define who we are and who we will become. Sadly, most give up on hope because hope doesn't pay up on their timeframe. Maybe the person they had banked on being happy with leaves. Perhaps their dream encounters setback after setback. Maybe we just get tired. Sometimes it is easier to hope for something we can actually see, or something that makes more sense. 

The prophet Isaiah speaks these words, 

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. (55:8-9)

Everything truly great that has ever been done for the Kingdom of God, for the cause of love, for the betterment of humanity, or for the satisfaction of a soul has met great adversity. No one has a golden ticket to their destiny. Vincent McNabb put it this way, "Hope is some extraordinary spiritual grace that God gives us to control our fears, not to oust them." 

Whether that deep desire within you is to see a dream come to life, to see revival break out in your city, to see a family member accept grace, or to see love conquer all, I assure you it will never come without a great price. I remember very well one great roadblock I reached on the road to one of urgent cries of my heart. There is nothing more discouraging when you feel you have been called to "speak to nations," than having your voice taken away with no real hope of it coming back. I remember sitting alone in my dorm room as a 19 year old on a Sunday. I remember not being able to bring myself to drive to church. Worship, my refuge, had become something agonizing for me to experience. I went from being a worship leader to someone who could not even sing through a worship service without extreme pain. How could the thing I hoped for, the thing that I woke up thinking about and went to sleep dreaming about be to use my voice? I couldn't even sing in a congregation, much less speak to nations. I was at a dead end. I felt like hope had evaporated from my life. God had gotten it wrong to trust me with a dream that could never come to fruition...

But slowly I came to realize...

God, love, faith, and hope do not work on our time table.

For love to be pure, it must go through fire. For a dream to be appreciated, it must be tried. 

So often I find myself going back to Matthew 7:7, " Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be open to you." The problem is that, "and it will," generally takes longer than we would like. I had to reach a place where my character could sustain my calling. Where integrity could be married with my gift. My voice was created through hours of pleading with God to give me hope when it seemed the furthest thing from my psyche. You know the feeling. Desperate. Alone, even in a room crowded with people. 

I have begun to see today the fruits of something that begun as a dream in the heart of a bright eyed girl who got her world shaken. The opportunities I have been given to use my voice overseas have almost exclusively come out of the story of those two years where I battled with God over forsaking me. Although this is only the beginning of one dream planted in my heart, I remember it daily as hope that some feelings are too great to be ignored or discarded because things get difficult.

There are so many things that we do not understand. So many things that we cannot comprehend. I do not want to arrive at my 30th birthday, however, and know that I was responsible for dictating a decision that cost me the beauty of destiny. I do not want to be responsible for losing hope because it was easier to not risk loss. In some ways I think I would rather lose than never try. To lose is to feel a deep, pervading emotion, to realize the limits of our humanity, and to be forced to trust something far greater than circumstances, people, and time. 

Victor Hugo said, "Hope is the word which God has written on the brow of every man." Hope is our gift, not some mean attempt and keeping us miserable by a Heavenly Puppetmaster. To hold something in front of us that we can never have. Hope is the thing which keeps us going when everything else in life tells us to throw in the towel, it is the thing that makes millionaires billionaires after they lose their fortunes, often more than once. It is the thing that inspires legends and births great movements of history. 

Romans chapter five tells the full story: 

More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, 

knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character,

and character produces hope, 

and hope does not disappoint us.

We want to see the hope first, before we are tried, before we have to stretch ourselves through endurance and give up personal comforts and things otherwise "permissible" to produce character. Hope is the product of discipleship, the product of relationship, and the driving force to every important thing in my life today. 

I am not telling you you must hope. I know it is often easier to take another road. But I do challenge you to arouse the passion for the possible. To quit counting the millions of reasons something cannot happen and remember the one reason which trumps every reason man doubts. The blood of Jesus Christ covers every stain of sin. The power of God which raised men from the dead and brought the life of the Savior through a simple virgin girl is awakened in the souls of those who hope above all odds. Love does conquer all and, as the Virgin Mary proclaimed, "For nothing shall be impossible with God."

I choose hope not because it is easy, but because without it my life would be void of purpose. Believe beyond and beside yourself. 

Here's hoping.