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Anyone remember the picture of the flower I posted a couple months ago? It withstood a terrible storm and still looked pretty, right?

Look at it now. No, not the pink thing. The shriveled beige and black thing below it. THAT’S the flower that brought me so much hope a while ago. 

I could focus on the death in this photo. It would be easy to dwell on what once was. Instead, I see the hope in the flower that sprung up above it. I see the beauty in the new life. I don’t know why the other flower died. I don’t know enough about plant biology to know how a perfectly good flower is growing from the death of another. But, I do know the plant’s Creator. And, this, this is the exact kind of redemption story He’s known for.

Life is still hard. There is still a pandemic. Thousands are still dying. There is still a system in my home country built on unjust ideas that continues to hurt the people I love. People who are supposed to be known for their kindness are spewing hate post by post. Devastating events still happen. 

And me? I’m tired of waiting on promises I know are mine. I’m drained from listening and learning about weighty subjects. I just want to take my kid to his favorite play place again. Things are hard, guys. The burden feels deep.

But, I have hope.

It doesn’t make sense, I know. To believe in something I can’t see, to put my faith in a being who seems absent at times, it just doesn’t add up. But, I know that I know that I know that He is Good. He is THE HOPE of the world. Period. No immunization, no reform, no awakening will ever offer half the hope that King Jesus offers. Ever. Nothing will come close.

So, I’m going to stand on that promise. I will keep learning, keep listening, keep praying and keep hoping. Because someday, oh some glorious day, the promise will be mine to hold. 

Redemption will be a beautiful thing.