It’s nearing the end of the semester. My first year of Seminary is coming to a close. In the midst of some 10 hours or so of studying Greek today, I went for a walk. I’ve learned this year that I should listen to my body. Sometimes I just need to move for a while.
Granted, I’m not the best listener in this regard. Usually it takes a headache or numb butt to get me up, but at least I’m learning.
The passage I’m studying is 1 Peter 1:13-25. Buried under loaded words like “holy,” “fear” and “obedience,” it talks about hope.
There is something about that word. Hope.
It’s like being in the middle of crunch time and suddenly taking a deep breath. Struggling through Greek commentaries for hours and being caught off-guard by lovely pink flowers. Stuck thinking about everything that has to be done and seeing someone you love smile.
It’s breathtaking. Mystifying. Strangely unknown yet radically comforting. And always available. Maybe we just need to be listening. Looking. Ready.
In the messy, complicated sea of stress, may you find a simple glimmer of hope.