Faith is the substance of things hoped for, and the evidence of things not seen.
Hope is a powerful grace.
It causes a mother holding her child, with 70 percent chance of certain death to believe in a miracle. She remembers it’s first breath, their heart beat, this child maybe even a full-grown man was held by mother’s hands, thinking she could never experience more joy than this.
Faith is what carries her, as her child slips away, that God has a purpose for this pain. That God’s will; will remain the governing force that allows her to say, although my child is gone, “I trust you God.”
A person ready to die, pills swallowed, wrist cut, no reason to live,
but would steal one more day to hear some one say, “I Love You.”
one faint whisper; finally seeing the picture, living with regret for a debt that was already paid,
all thing leading up to the decision they’d made, finally has the courage to say, “Save Me”
Hope is found in
the man fighting for his country, shoulder to shoulder he stands
but he is unable to kneel on a hymn; he only dreams to see his brothers free, he weeps to see another tragedy.
He’s ostracized as the one that tells lies that America is great when all one feels in this country is hate
but all he can do is hold on to faith, and wait for all to come to pass,
he fast for all those killed in combat, on the streets, men in blue walking the beat
How is he not torn? How does he STILL Trust in the Lord?
Where is the Hope for;
That addict seen as worthless, wanting so desperately to end the pain, takes one more drag, chugs one more beer, wishing it’d chase away another tear; this is their life an endless cycle they fear but their heart yearns to hear, “You’re Clean.” Could a phene be forgiven, become influenced under the spirit? Lifted high enough to see above the smoke but toke every bit of the word they heard said forth from the pulpit. Could God see fit, to fix what’s broken from the inside out, To make this type of person have no doubt?
that they are delivered, from this disease that had them bound!
Hope makes me believe
a Child not yet eighteen who holds on to an idea of love each time she becomes disrobed, he is told to expose himself, their bodies the price made a willing sacrifice. Thought to be the world’s envy, wrapped up in a cloak of lies from the enemy. Behind the mask pulled back layers of self-hate, ravished by pornographic pictures they take all evidence of their father and tuck it all away. This generation they want to be saved, they long for some deep-rooted faith to hear, “You’re Enough”
This hope is what my eyes don't see, what my voice can't speak
What my ears have never heard, this hope allows me to pray, makes me want to stay in perfect harmony with God’s will.
This hope makes me want to shout, Hold on child, Wait till that day when we all see his face when
all is made new, when there will be no more tears, no more fears, I hold on to this HOPE.