Growing Up in Hope

I grew up in Hope- literally.  I spent all my childhood in Hope, Texas.  But as I turned another year older last week and reflected on that this week, there is even a more real sense that I was conceived, born and grew up in hope.

I had an older brother who died as an infant.  He did not reach his first birthday.  I never knew much about him because when I would ask about him, it would make my parents cry.  As I look back on my life as an adult, I have found it somewhat amazing that I am here.  My parents already had two healthy daughters when my brother died.  They were no longer a young couple.  It sure could have been understandable and easier for them to say, 'We have two healthy girls, let's not try this again,' but they did.  And 53 years ago I was born - in hope, because of hope, out of hope and grew up in Hope.

My parents were not wild eyed optimists but I now have a great appreciation for the hope they somehow found - that was in someway given - that makes it possible for me to be here today and write these words.  God must have given them a hope that came out of losing a son.

We will look at hope this Sunday (not Hope, Texas) but the hope that God can give even in our losses - the hope also found in the Christmas story.  It may be that we discover that the greatest hope we can have is the hope that God gives; his hope that he puts into us when we face a situation where we have lost all of ours.

For the journey...
Tim