I Am Not Hopeless

There is darkness that overcomes and overwhelms.

There is darkness that consumes.

Darkness can descend in many ways.

It can leave hopelessness and despair in its wake.

I have two little girls whom I will never hear giggle as the grass tickles their bare feet.

The despair of their death can cause the darkest of black to consume me.

But I am not hopeless.

I appreciate the death died on that cross and the empty grave like I never did before. I should have but I didn't.

Consuming the bread broken and the blood spilled causes the consuming darkness to flee.

Life can bring new perspectives. And for all the pain that was brought and remains, I wouldn't change what my heart can now see.

The mission. Those who followed. The disbelieving. The accusations. The denial. That kiss.

Darkness prevailed in the days that followed.

Unbelievable darkness.

Unbelievable hopelessness.

Unbelievable reality.

For those who loved and followed and believed, they battled with an overwhelming hopelessness.

But that grave stood empty.

I am not hopeless.

The pain in the persecution didn't persist. The grave couldn't contain. His death didn't define him.

His death didn't say this is the end.

There was more.

I am not hopeless.

That grave is empty. The earth stained offers promise. He suffered a death for life. He rose so Heaven wins.

The enemy who tries to win by threatening me with the death of my girls loses.

Heaven wins!

There is a cross consumed with the fibers of death and a vacant tomb. There are two pierced through hands that offer the promise of Heaven.

I am not hopeless.

He's alive! My girls are alive! Their feet are tickled by the blades of grass. They giggle. They delight in the joys of heaven.

I don't get the privilege of raising them and the joy of delighting in their giggles. I am sad but I am not hopeless. Their death doesn't mean never. It just means wait.

Wait . . . the best is yet to come.







Stephanie