I was walking to the store in Kalk Bay the other day and just happened across this view. Gorgeous right? Thank you South Africa for your beauty!
Young. Really young. Only just 18. Skinny. Really skinny. Less than 100 pounds. Curled into a ball facing the wall. Eyes glazed over. Drooling. Unable to control his bladder or bowels. Unable to answer basic questions. Confused. Combative. In pain. Unable to sit, stand or walk. He was sent to us for pallitiave care. Palliative, meaning terminal. No hope. Just keep him comfortable. This one isn't going to make it. Do what you can for him, but he isn't going to recover. They said that his HIV and TB were too far gone.
It's a good thing we don't listen to what they say.
Less than a month later and just a few days before Christmas, he walked out with his Kayne West style sunglasses on, laughing out loud and throwing out jokes, as he headed home to his mother and sister. He left shouting out loud, raising his hands and praising God that he was a miracle. Scolding the other patients for not believing that they too could get better. Encouraging them to take their tablets and to hold onto hope. This clever, little sarcastic jokester who can do uncanny impersonations of everyone in the place, smiles with a gap-toothed grin and likes to spend money on Cokes like he's a high roller. The day he left, he handed me a huge plastic wrapped pork liver as a thank you. ("Um, your welcome? I think???")
Simphiwe, you were our Christmas miracle. Keep the faith little brother. Stay the course. Don't give up. God has big plans for you. You make my job worthwhile. You are the definition of our living hope.
Sometimes hope hurts. Hope can be lonely, discouraging and disappointing when it remains unfulfilled. You wonder if it’s time to give up. To move on. To accept that what you want may never happen.
Hope: the vague sense that something could change. A little more than a wish. A little less than a prayer. We ask ourselves “Is this it?” We hold our breath and then wait, as if the thing that we so desperately want will jump out from behind a bush, knock on the door, or sit down beside us at a table. Like pennies thrown into a fountain, we don't really expect results. We chalk up our lost dreams to destiny, fate or chance.
It’s interesting to me that hope surprises us when we actually get what we want. Why are we so caught off guard when the things that we desire actually come to fruition? I think it must be because hope in this world is unsteady at best. Barely visible, it's only a fleeting glimpse of the forseeable future. A thing with feathers that too quickly flies away. A filled balloon waiting to be burst. A grasp at the wind. Naivety trying to hold onto that which cannot be held.
Is it really reasonable to keep waiting for something you can’t quite put your finger on? To keep waiting for an unknown amount of time? Too keep expecting that something not quite tangible will happen? That sounds completely irrational.
When does the time come to give up?
When does the time come to give up?
When I told God that my heart was hurt by hope He told me,
“Then you must be placing your hope in the wrong thing.
My hope never hurts.
My hope will never let you down.”
According the Bible, we are never to stop hoping. We are always to live with the confident expectation that God will answer us. His hope is different! Paul tells us that God's hope is like an anchor; firm and secure. Precious? Yes. Fragile? Never. No shattered dreams to be found where we have an anchor. Just a rock solid iron weight, massive and impossibly heavy, sunk deep into an unknown sea. It shouldn't surprise us when the anchor does what it was made to do. It holds the ship and keeps it from drifting. So also, there is never a reason to be surprised by God’s hope.
The hope of the Bible has nothing to do with the "hopeful" fate of this world. You don’t leave the harbour without an anchor and “hope” that fate holds back the storms. Hope is not the wind in your sails. It’s not what keeps you going. Hope is for when the wind has become too strong, the seas too high and the sky too dark. Paul says that hope is something that we can unswervingly cling to. Something that we can always rely upon; something to hang onto for dear life when our little boat is rocking.
So my advice is to stop looking for the thing that you want and look to God. Wait for Him. Let your heart skip a beat and be surprised when you recognize that He is at work. Hold your breath, so you can let it out in worship for what He has done for you. The hope of the Bible has nothing to do with the "hopeful" fate of this world. You don’t leave the harbour without an anchor and “hope” that fate holds back the storms. Hope is not the wind in your sails. It’s not what keeps you going. Hope is for when the wind has become too strong, the seas too high and the sky too dark. Paul says that hope is something that we can unswervingly cling to. Something that we can always rely upon; something to hang onto for dear life when our little boat is rocking.
I have this hope. This anchor for my soul. This joyful anticipation that I will cling to unashamedly, no matter what the skies look like. My confidence is in the weight of who God is, so I will set out to sea. I will keep sailing into the unknown. My fate is not sealed. My destiny is not set, and Christ as my anchor will hold.
“God is this it?”
“Oh yes, baby girl, THIS IS IT!”
“Oh yes, baby girl, THIS IS IT!”
About:
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Supported by her home church, Brentwood Baptist in Nashville, TN, Amy moved across the world in 2011 and accepted a volunteer missionary nursing position with Living Hope in Cape Town, South Africa, where she works with impoverished people affected by HIV, TB, cancer and other life threatening illnesses. She went on to marry Steve in 2013, and in doing so has made South Africa her second home. She now considers herself to be in a long- term cross-cultural relationship, both in marriage and in ministry. Keep reading for stories from Living Hope and from life in South Africa. Thanks for reading along!
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