Since, then, we have such a hope, we act with great boldness. 2 Cor. 3:12
When our children were little, we purchased a trapeze from IKEA. It was a simple toy we ended up hanging from the support beams in the basement ceiling. The basement had a cement floor, so we placed two old mattresses underneath the trapeze to catch anyone who fell off.
My daughter loved that trapeze. She would spend hours swinging on it, exploring new moves each time. If a move didn’t work, she would fall on the mattresses, giggle, get up and do it again. I’ve never seen a child so full of joy.
One day, I needed to clean the basement and the trapeze was in the way. So I moved the mattresses and lifted up the trapeze so I wouldn’t hit with my head. When my work was done, I lowered the trapeze but got called away before I could move the mattresses back in place. Later that day, Britta came down to swing. She did not see the mattresses were not in place and I had forgotten about them. She fell off the trapeze and landed on the cement floor.
She didn’t cry, but she was stunned and bewildered, unable to figure out why it hurt. After comforting her and making sure she was okay, she went upstairs and never played on the trapeze the same way again. Matter of fact, it took months before she would even try.
My daughter trusted my words that the mattresses would protect her. Her experience with them proved my words trustworthy. Each time she fell and was caught her confidence grew and she lived boldly. However, when the mattresses were not in place, it became apparent she had role to play in being safe. She needed to assess the level of risk. The task proved challenging and produced fear.
It would be really nice if we knew the outcome of every decision we made. If people knew the outcome, they would be much more dynamic in living. Unfortunately, we don’t know outcomes and don’t always trust ourselves to make the best decisions. So, like my daughter, we walk away from things that might provide great joy.
The dictionary defines hope as a desire for a certain thing to happen. Christian hope is different. It is the confidence that God’s mercy and goodness can be relied on and cannot fail. December is about our longing for hope. This distant, invisible God will come to us in the form of a child to show that hope dwells within our hearts and homes. Breathe it in and live boldly.
Click to read: 2 Corinthians 3: 12-18
Reflection Questions: When has something/someone you trusted failed you? What produces the most fear in your life? How can hope help you cope with this fear? Would you live differently if knew a mattress would catch you every time you fell? How can God be that mattress?
Photo Courtesy of Unsplash.com and Laura Aziz