I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you. Eph. 1:18
Dear heavenly Father, if a sheriff knocked at my door this morning with a subpoena, I’d be a bit unnerved, but I’d take it very seriously. But today, like every day, the gospel is knocking at the door of our hearts to serve us with a subpoena to hope, for as Paul stated in this verse, hope is a calling. Nothing could be more settling, encouraging, or timely.
Father, thank you for making hope a calling, and not merely an “email blast,” general notification, or polite invitation. I wouldn’t think of ignoring a summons from the sheriff; I’d be crazy to ignore a summons from you.
I’m also thankful that you haven’t called us to hope in hope, but to hope in Jesus, and everything you’ve given us in him. Thank you for the present hope of knowing Jesus as our full forgiveness, perfect righteousness, and constant intercessor; and as our present Shepherd, reigning King and coming Bridegroom. What a beloved people we are.
And thank you for the future hope of the life we will enjoy in the new heaven and new earth—when “everything sad comes untrue” and all things broken will be made new. Thank you that everything will make sense then—every tear will be wiped away and all incomplete stories resolved
So Father, free me today from fixing my gaze on hope-robing circumstances and joy-depleting people. I tend to give them way too much power over my heart. Paul wrote these words of encouragement from a Roman imprisonment, not from a Mediterranean condo. What do I have to whine and complain about? My “stuff” is real, but you give an even greater hope than all my “stuff.”
Father, bring clarity of vision to the eyes of my heart, where there’s been cataracts and astigmatism of late. Throw the curtains wide open; lift the clouds and show me more of Jesus—that’s all I really need. Thank you for hope—living hope through a living Savior. So very Amen I pray, in Jesus’ tender and triumphant name.