looking up

It's a little later than I like to wake up in the morning, but I can't seem to stop hitting snooze. I know there's ground coffee waiting for boiling water in the french press, and dark wooden table beckoning me to come and sit. I choose five more minutes, and as I close my eyes I think, "but you were going to actually get up and read this morning."

My eyes open, my feet on the old wooden floors beneath me, I shuffle to the kitchen, boiling water, setting lunch out, returning to my room to check Facebook and my email. My eyes land on the stack of books by my bed as I pull the covers up and arrange the pillows, "you're up, why aren't you reading?"

Coffee pressed, preheated mug full of hot french press, I climb onto my bed pulling my Bible and a small devotional into my lap. Turning to today's date, I read the first sentence and I see my Father running out to meet me after what feels like such a long absence.

"Hope is a golden cord connecting you to heaven. This cord helps you hold your head up high, even when multiple trials are buffeting you. I never leave your side, and I never let go of your hand. But without the cord of hope your head may slump and your feet may shuffle as you journey uphill with me." [Jesus Calling]

"Father," I think, tears stinging my eyes, "how did you know?" Of course He knows, He has walked each shuffled step as I have taken my eyes of the destination and focused instead on the difficult terrain beneath my feet. With the reminder of hope fresh in my ears, I breath deeply, and choose to look up, choose to engage with hope, even though it feels a bit foolish. Because I am tired of looking down. Because I am tired of trying to avoid His ever present hope. Because I am called to hope, and I have the best reason to hope. Because I am promised that He came to give me to live life to the full.