But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently. – (Romans 8:25, NIV)
But we are hoping for something we don’t have yet, and we are waiting for it patiently. – (Romans 8:25, ERV)
But if we wait expectantly for things we have never seen, then we hope with true perseverance and eager anticipation. – (Romans 8:25, VOICE)
Kingdom principles applied to earthly timetables are indeed the most challenging to embrace. Hoping for what we desire and cannot yet see, and waiting patiently for what is yet to come, are foundational elements of faith. Walking beside someone, particularly a parent, following a serious stroke, indeed provides opportunity to exercise the fortification of one’s faith and the identification and holding fast to the very things for which one holds hope. Patiently waiting is proving the most challenging, as it can be agonizing to watch the struggle as a loved one works tirelessly to regain what was once automatic. It is a slow and tedious process, but each small step in the right direction is worthy of celebration and thanksgiving. Obviously in our circumstance, the hope is that mom will regain her independence and mobility, and be able to resume life as she knew it prior to her stroke. Right now, she is in the season of not yet. She is still in the space of relearning to walk and regain control of the right side of her body. Mom is leaps and bounds beyond where she was three months ago when this all began, yet there is still much ground to gain before she can safely live alone. This is the space of hoping for what is not yet, and waiting patiently with perseverance and eager anticipation, as God can do so much more.
Yesterday, mom had yet another glimpse of the good things yet to come. I had asked Nick, her physical therapist, if he would be willing to work with mom on steps. He gladly obliged, and before the end of their session, mom had walked down and back up her front landing steps and walkway with her hemi-walker (one-handed walker) with Nick beside her, giving verbal coaching cues and minimal hands-on as a reassurance. She did incredibly well, and will practice again on Wednesday. The bonus blessing of being able to navigate steps is that next week, when she has a gap week between insurance coverage locally, (covered in Oregon, not here) she will be able to return to her friend’s pool and step down into the pool and climb the steps back out, rather than relying on two people to lift her in and out. Extra exercise options will be wonderful, and the pool has been a favorite for both of us. Mom also had speech therapy and a lovely visit with a sweet pair of her neighbors. The visit took us up to a late dinner start, so by the time we had eaten and watched a movie, we were both wiped out and ready to sleep. Mom slept through the night until 4:30 am, and went back to sleep. In fact, she is still sleeping now. 😊 Rest is so good, and will be of great help as she has options for adventure today, with only occupational therapy on the schedule this morning.
May we seek the Lord to help us hold fast to hope for that which we cannot yet see, and wait patiently with perseverance and eager anticipation, as God moves on our behalf.
Hope is the anchor,
That tells us, “Hold on!”
A strength from within,
God’s gracious response.
The patience to wait,
For things yet unseen;
Faith to keep trusting,
In that still to be.
God’s ever moving,
His love understood.
Dear Heavenly Father, thank You for granting us hope in that which we cannot see, and faith that You are moving on our behalf in the waiting. Forgive us for our impatience, as Your timing is not our own. Teach us to trust You more, as Your ways are perfect and Your plan is best. Show us how to love those around us as they are in their own spaces of waiting or hoping or persevering toward the prize that seems out of reach. May many come into a lasting relationship with You. Be glorified O God, as we trust You to be our hope and strength that sustains us as You grow our faith each step of the way. Help us to continue to persevere in You. Amen.
© Shannon Elizabeth Grabrick and Revelations in Writing, May 2011 – present
We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the inner curtain. – Hebrews 6:19