TERESA MCGUIRE
Hope


The hope one possesses can make or break them.  It is hope that keeps us alive, moving every day from project to object.  It is hope that keeps us from slitting our wrist and jumping off cliffs.  Hope is the angle of all obtuseness.  It keeps us straight; it keeps us bent.  It keeps us however it wants, because it is indeed, the only thing that keeps us at all.  We are slaves to the thing that keeps us breathing, and when breathing is unbearable, hope is the one that pumps our heart.  Of all that keeps us alive, hope trumps all.  It is our life, our being, our hope.  Hope is our hope.  How does it all mend back to itself.  It is its own definition, and it has no end.  Therefore, what is our hope in.  Where does it lie?  Can we touch it or move it.  Why do we assume power over it when it possesses us.  We have to choose in what we hope for when we hope for nothing at all.  True as it is, there is only one hope, one desire, one possession that allows hope to be pure.  That of our Lord and Savior.  Of any other hope, I will not possess nor belong to.  For unless I hope in my Lord, I'd better off be possessed by Satan himself.  For hoping in something lost, something imperfect, something with as much fault as me, is masochistic.  I'd call myself fool, if my hope was in you.  You, should call me fool too.  Nothing worth dying for should be of fault.  What then, is perfect?  Only one, only one.  One is perfect, infallible, and unchanging.  That is the same, our Lord and Savior.  He is the same always; he does not lack, he does not hide, he does not falter.  For He can not.  To hope in anything else is putting your trust in a piece of fruit.  It withers, is eaten, and destroyed.  It doesn't speak back, or tell you where to go, it doesn't help you move, it simply is. . . for a little bit, something real, and then its gone.  To hope in an apple would be foolish.  Why then, do we hope in the things that by definition are the same?  There is nothing that possesses the abilities of God.  There is nothing that can stand next to His definition.

The hope one possesses can make or break them.  It is hope that keeps us alive, moving every day from project to object.  It is hope that keeps us from slitting our wrist and jumping off cliffs.  Hope is the angle of all obtuseness.  It keeps us straight; it keeps us bent.  It keeps us however it wants, because it is indeed, the only thing that keeps us at all.  We are slaves to the thing that keeps us breathing, and when breathing is unbearable, hope is the one that pumps our heart.  Of all that keeps us alive, hope trumps all.  It is our life, our being, our hope.  Hope is our hope.  How does it all mend back to itself.  It is its own definition, and it has no end.  Therefore, what is our hope in.  Where does it lie?  Can we touch it or move it.  Why do we assume power over it when it possesses us.  We have to choose in what we hope for when we hope for nothing at all.  True as it is, there is only one hope, one desire, one possession that allows hope to be pure.  That of our Lord and Savior.  Of any other hope, I will not possess nor belong to.  For unless I hope in my Lord, I'd better off be possessed by Satan himself.  For hoping in something lost, something imperfect, something with as much fault as me, is masochistic.  I'd call myself fool, if my hope was in you.  You, should call me fool too.  Nothing worth dying for should be of fault.  What then, is perfect?  Only one, only one.  One is perfect, infallible, and unchanging.  That is the same, our Lord and Savior.  He is the same always; he does not lack, he does not hide, he does not falter.  For He can not.  To hope in anything else is putting your trust in a piece of fruit.  It withers, is eaten, and destroyed.  It doesn't speak back, or tell you where to go, it doesn't help you move, it simply is. . . for a little bit, something real, and then its gone.  To hope in an apple would be foolish.  Why then, do we hope in the things that by definition are the same?  There is nothing that possesses the abilities of God.  There is nothing that can stand next to His definition.  There are many that are his antonyms, but none that are synonymous.  So then, why do we desperately seek hope in all that is false?  We, my friend, are exactly what we hope in.  We trust the foolishness of our mind.  We trust the belligerent ideas that seem so right.  We believe we have the power within us to withstand all things.  But we, my friend, are all but powerful.  We are feeble minded, we are lost in those things that give us hope for a second, a minute, a day.  Our hope changes so often that we can't stop from finding hope in another.  We lose track and forget what it was, so we move on, like that hope never mattered anyway.  This, I tell you, my friend, if you hope in anything except for the saving grace that does not change from our Almighty King and Savior, you, my friend, will die slave to your hope, and you will hope that you had hoped in the One that saves.

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TERESA MCGUIRE

This page was first displayed
on January 01, 2010

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