Hope Against Hope

I’ll never forget the trouble, the utter lostness, the taste of ashes, the poison I’ve swallowed. I remember it all—oh, how well I remember— the feeling of hitting the bottom. But there’s one other thing I remember, and remembering, I keep a grip on hope. –Lamentations 3:19

As I was sitting over my newborn daughter in ICU, I prayed for a miracle.

I prayed that God would save her from imminent death and give her a new heart quickly.

I prayed for the donor family, that they would know the thankfulness of my heart for giving my daughter a new life in the moment of their grief.

I prayed for strength, and there were many times that I was so angry at God that I couldnt utter a prayer.

Emma Grace laid in that ICU crib for 4 and a half months on life support before her new heart came.

That was eight years ago, but still it is etched in my memory like it was yesterday.

Then came my brain cancer diagnosis. I felt all the same feelings that I did with Emma Grace. I prayed all of the same prayers and often was so angry at God that I couldn’t even speak.

I laid in bed at night, curled up in a ball, weeping, praying for a future; praying to see my three children at least graduate and possibly hold my grandchildren. I prayed for strength to handle what ever was to come of me in this life. I remember being curled up sobbing on my floor through the rough days of chemo, pleading with God to take this from me.

That was two years ago, but it is still etched in my memory like it was yesterday.

The one thing I held tightly to was hope of a future for my daughter; hope of a future of my own. Hope without any expectation of fulfillment.

I know how hard this life can be. I have lived it, breathed it, tasted it. I know how easily it can change. I know how it can reach deep inside your soul and rip your heart out. Satan is good at things like that.

But I also know that my Savior promises to never leave me nor forsake me. He promises to hold my heart, especially when my heart is shattered in 1000 tiny pieces. I know that if he chooses not to move these mountains from my family’s lives, He will show us a path to climb over them.

These trials in my life have only made me stronger; they have brought me closer to my Savior and tested me in ways that I never dreamed possible.

How has hope infiltrated your life in the hardships of despair? I’d love to hear your stories!