A sneek peek excerpt from "Hope Re-written," rewritten. Love Letters to Miscarried Moms
by Samantha Evans on 02/13/20
The white collar, white-gloved Sanhedrin held
great power, authority and sway over all ecclesiastical and political matters. Commoners
revered their station. The Romans feared their influence. They possessed great
wealth, and no one dared question their opinions or insult their intelligence.
Jesus challenged their power and authority, insulted
their wealth and won every debate they engaged him in.
Paul, appalled by the blasphemous teachings
of Jesus, set out to kill Jesus followers. Paul took great pride in his high
position.“Circumcised on the eighth day
of the people of Israel of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews, in
regard to the law, a Pharisee, as for zeal persecuting the church and as for
legalistic righteousness, faultless.” (Philippians 3:5,6).
Instead of a 2X4 as He did with my husband,
God used a blinding light with Paul to shape their “understanding.” Different
methods. Same jolting result.
Suddenly, Paul found himself on the opposite
side of his own belief. The Holy Spirit unlocked his intellect and revealed Jesus
as the Law’s hope fulfilled. “Yet,
whatever was my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ” (Philippians
When Paul killed Christians, he assumed he
was snuffing out an itty, bitty candle.
Oops. Silly Paul.
Cuz’ then he met Hope and Hope didn’t flicker
like a flimsy candlewick. Hope blazed brightly enough to blind him. Only after Paul
went blind did he see the Truth (Acts 9).
I wish Hope
would create a firework display in front of me, declaring, “Here I am.!”
I have a problem opposite from Paul’s. I
desire to find Hope, but every time I get close it slips through my fingers.
I stared vacantly out the office window. The
static in my brain made listening difficult and the helpful advice of a friend
buzzed around me like a fly. Despite the vast number of words she spoke, the
only words that penetrated were “cling to Jesus.”
Before you think, wow, how profound, you should hear what my brain used the words
My mind conjured an image of me as the hemorrhaging
woman who reached out in faith for Jesus’ cloak for healing (Luke 8:42-44). Only,
my story didn’t play out the same way as Luke’s. When I reached for Jesus’
cloak, the fabric slipped through my fingers. Jesus and his disciples were
already striding away, heading for the next town.
I’m gonna miss him!
Desperation coursed through me, igniting one final burst of energy. I lunged
and clasped Jesus’ cloak. Jesus doesn’t
notice me! My elusive Hope walked as fast as a motorboat ferrying a tuber. I tightened my grip. Cling to Jesus. Cling to Jesus. Cling to
Jesus. I repeated the words as I .I bounced along the road behind him, dirt
and pebbles flying in our wake
Inaccurate as that portrayal is, that’s sorta
how I feel right now. Hope is elusive. Grasping hope is vital.