Still Waiting...

I’m stuck deep in a creative rut right now.  Words don’t want to form into sentences, ideas resist being crafted into essays…most days it is easier to close the laptop and do the day-to-day tasks that keep piling up.  There’s always dishes, if I have a spare minutes.  I feel like life – progress -  has screeched to a stop.  If my hope is based on things on earth, there’s not much cause for joy or hope. 

But God says our hope is in him, and He does not change like shifting shadows.  When my heart breaks over my marriage, God is still good.  When my mind tells me I’ll still be sitting in the classroom – and my kids will still be sitting in daycare – in five years, God is still good.  I can’t tell you why He is good, but He IS, and I look for joy in that. 

That my mind and emotions are so scattered all over the map tells me that I’m not really looking to God for help.  I have not a single, tangible thing to offer as evidence that He will answer my prayers and fulfill my hopes.  In some of these hurts: my husband’s work ethic and his (in)ability to love me, answers have long been absent.  Yet the only possible hope I have for change is God, and I have no guarantee other than His word that He’ll come through.

Every morning, I whisper a Psalm to Him.  I tell him He is great, He is a conqueror, He is my protector.  I tell Him He is worthy of praise.  I praise Him for rescuing me from to pit.  And I hope that in time, my heart will begin to believe.  Then I lift weights, take a shower, make breakfasts and lunches, and dash off to work…late again.

And I surely hope He is all those things He claims. And that He wants to be those things to me.