One Step

 It was almost 13 years ago, but it feels like just yesterday. I broke my spine and pelvis, and I had not yet received permission to walk, nor was it known that I would ever have the capability to do so again. I pulled myself out of my wheelchair and attempted to take a step on my own. My body would not budge. It was actually impossible to take a step. Because of its impossibility, if I were to ever walk again, hope was required. This is not because hope made my body capable, but if I had none, I never would have attempted taking another step.  

I had no assurance that I would walk again, did not know that I would dance, run, hike up mountains, backpack across Europe, etc. Facing the unknown is difficult. Sometimes we decide it is easier to give up our hopes than to face disappointment. We do not offer God our desires, because it seems pointless if they will never be fulfilled anyways. 

For what do you hope?  

What hopes have you given up on? 

(It is hard for me to believe that I am the only one fighting to understand what matters—or struggling with a limited perception of what is possible.) 

We are in a strange time right now, and finding solutions to our problems (in the world and individually) may seem impossible. Rather than giving up our hopes and expectations, God invites us to a deeper hope. Do we trust that He has the good of the world in His Heart? Do we believe He has the power to take care of us? Will we surrender our fears and pride to allow Him to provide for us? 

We need hope to persevere through this time. We may not know where our steps are taking us, but we will not get anywhere without taking them.

Sometimes our steps do look like stillness. I was confined to a wheelchair for a couple months—there was internal healing that needed to happen before I could take a physical step. Maybe you really want to be out there and proactive, but you are simply being asked to go home and stay there. You might feel useless, and I know quarantine is difficult on a variety of levels, but have hope that what you are doing is helping. You are always free to do whatever God is calling you to do—it may just look different from what you expected. 

Whether it is the first step out of the wheelchair, or the last step to reach the top of mountain, there is only one step you have to worry about at each moment.  What step are you invited to take at this time? Where does your hope lead you?