There have been a few things shifting in my heart this summer.
I realize something shocking this morning; I taught my heart not to hope too much. I did that.
My heart like the Jews, who for ages must have dealt with false hopes and promises of fake deliverance while they wait for Jesus. So many imposers and laws that they educate and speculate about just how their messiah will walk, how he will look and speak, what he will do and what he will be. They spent lifetimes guarding their hearts against any false hope.
So what happened with Jesus comes? They cannot see him. They have a hard time allowing their hearts to hope again, to run and greet their Messiah. So miracles happen, again and again, enough to fill the world up with pages and pages of accounts. This is enough for some, but not all.
I add the miracles part, because, when I guard my heart too closely I am ignoring all the miracles that have happened to me, personally.
Where this is coming from: I want to go to China. I believe God has called me there. I built a degree around this fact, but in my heart, I say "I'll believe it when I see it," and in my mind, I list the things I'll be able to do with my degree like a lullaby to tell myself it will all be fine if I never make it to China, or if I don't ever find my purpose there.
Oh my heart! I'm asking Jesus to teach it how to let my heart free to hope, because hope is running away with a light spirit. It is vulnerable and it is joyful. A hoping heart is expectant and doesn't hold back. I love him. I really really don't want to hold back from Jesus's promises, and I do have hope about a lot of things, but sometimes I let my flesh say "no more."
I recently heard a college professor say something to the effect of "there is not much place for the cynic with Jesus, though there be realism and some skepticality."
