“Tho’ hope is frail it’s hard to kill.” That quote hit me hard the first time I heard it, and it’s hit me hard every time since. Though hope is frail it’s hard to kill…the song is about miracles, and believing. The struggle-praying when you don’t feel anything, fear, distance. Looking back and seeing that it’s so worth it through the hard times. The walk isn’t easy. Sometimes it’s so hard to just stand, to just pray, because I can’t always save the day. That’s kind of where I am at right now. Standing, and searching for the others that stand with me. Often I am disappointed. Often it feels like I stand alone with tears, and pray for the world below, although I know that there must be others somewhere.
We abandon the meat of Christianity. We despise the things we call morbid. Finding one of my favorite authors who wasn’t afraid to expose the brutality of dyeing so you might live mixing his metaphors; losing his purpose. Dissapointment. I want to find the meat, I want to meditate on truth. I don’t want cotton candy Christianity. Give me truth, make it applicable now. So many times I don’t think the older generation has a clue what they are sending us into. So many come unprepared and fall. You can never be fully equipped. I’m hoping, I’m trying to be the phrase love always hopes. I’m trying to expect the best in people, and be vulnerable, but it’s hard after being let down so many times. “Tho’ hope is frail it’s hard to kill.
Loving fully, hoping deeply, believing with all of my beng. It’s a high calling. It can’t be done without Christ. Joy through the hard times is a precious thing. Family to return home to after a long day in the cold dark world. Going to God to rejuvenate the flame when hope begins to flicker. Trying to rely on God every step of the way, and failing miserably, then coming back to open arms. It’s a beautiful broken road that we’re traveling. The ancient path may be difficult, but it is not without fulfillment. If I look hard enough there are others out there. The world tries to hide them. Satan doesn’t want us to know there is an army around us. But sometimes he doesn’t succeed, and sometimes there are late nights of laughter, and prayer. Tho’ hope is frail it’s hard to kill” so I will carry on.