Sunday, November 29, 2009

Hope

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

Langston Hughes

What a cheery way to start advent eh?

It's funny. I always think of this poem on the first Sunday of Advent. This is the day that we light the prophet's candle. In a way, the prophets had a dream. They prophesied a Messiah. A saviour. A rescue from their slavery. This was a dream that not one of them would see realized. In fact, most of the Jewish nation is still waiting.

4000 years they've been waiting.

I have trouble waiting in line at the grocery store. I cannot fathom the patience that nation has learned.

This is the Sunday we remember the promise. For those of us who believe the New Testament, the promise has been fulfilled. The dream is realized. And we rejoice.

But today, I choose to remember. I remember those who believed. Those who walked by faith their whole lives. Those who trusted a God they could not see for a Saviour they would not know.

I rarely have that faith myself. I prefer the stuff I can see and hold and know. My natural tendency is to choose one of Mr. Langston's options. I stink sometimes.

Yet, I do believe in a God I cannot see. I believe there is a Saviour whom everyone can know.

I will have hope.


Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. Hebrews 11:1


4 comments:

Knittinchick said...

Hope deferred.... yup, I'm getting some boot camp in that in my personal life... but Jesus coming to earth as my hope-that is something to hang onto with everything.

Advent-it's the season that I love. Preparing my heart for Jesus is something that I need to do way more!

Thanks for the reminder.

Nicole said...

Happy Advent!!

a Tonggu Momma said...

One of my favorite verses, especially in my season of waiting.

Veronica Mitchell said...

You're right - that is a perfect Advent poem.