Book of Hope

I met with a former student today who graciously shared all the exciting things God is doing in her life. I can't help but think this time with her was a God thing as I feel a funk coming on...I can't explain it. So, I had to seek out words to lift me up and remind me of my blessings. I came back to this post I wrote in April - before I officially shared my blog.  

I have a little pocket prayer book called The Book of Hope.

It’s almost like a “quick reference” prayer book that you can pull out as needed. 

There are Bible verses that are valuable to most anxieties that come your way. 

And, I treasure this little book. 

I have always been quite the worrier, and 

I always prayed over these worries. 

The book came into my possession one day when my dad 

noticed me having a tough time. He gave me this book and told me 

it helped him when he lost his mom. He wasn’t one to talk openly 

about his faith, but it spoke volumes when he confided in me this day. 

Then fast-forward to the darkest day of my life. The day when I learned 

my dad was gone. All my prayers for all my worries seem to be for nothing. 

In fact,I worried that my dad would suffer another heart attack after

having two previously so I would pray for his health every single day. 

But, the reality was far worse. One day, he goes fishing, and then

he just never comes back. He was missing for nine days. Nine days of losing hope, preparing for the worst, and still praying. On that ninth day, we find that there was some accident and he was gone. 

Gone, just like that.

The Book of Hope, prayers...all of it seemed silly to me now. I had 

prayed and prayed for my parents to always be with me. To see me get married, 

see my kids...and now all that was gone. With that went my faith. I was so angry.

I couldn’t imagine functioning in my everyday life 

like I had before we lost Dad. I was done. 

Life for the next few months wasn’t good. I struggled greatly to find meaning. 

During this time, my other grandmother fell ill and passed away - 

9 months to the day we lost my dad. She was a saintly woman; 

she believed in the power of prayer through all situations, 

and she had been through so much in her life. I suddenly thought, 

she wouldn’t want me to live this way - in this dark, angry place. 

It wasn’t an overnight realization, but I did begin to pray again 

and returned to my Book of Hope. 

And here I am, thirteen years after losing my dad. I have an amazing life - 

a supportive husband, two beautiful miracle babies, 

and finally my dream job of staying home with them. How do I know God exists? 

How did I know God has worked in my life? I am still here. I fought hard - 

and never alone. God was with me the entire time - even when I wasn’t with Him. 

He helped me fight and helps me fight every single day. 

That Book of Hope is never far away. When a dark day comes again, 

I pull it out, thank Him - for His gifts, His undying love, 

and His everyday forgiveness.

It’s what my Dad would do too. 

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My point for re-posting is this - I try everyday to be active; I try to keep life in perspective and take it all one day at a time. But, it's not easy, and those with anxiety can attest to the troubles it can cause.  

I hope you take these words to heart and know that someone out there gets it. I encourage you to find the words to help you when your days don't exactly go as planned. Find your book of hope, pray, and know this too shall pass. 

Be blessed, friends!

With Love,
Kim