Acres of Hope

When I first started typing this entry, I wanted to paint a picture of a girl who desperately needs hope, and talk about how much light Jesus can shed into the dark places of our hearts, no matter how grim and bleak. As I was typing this, I got a phone call from someone who, though I love them more than I can imagine, I cannot speak to without feeling a surge of anger towards. I sat here, staring at my blinking cursor, trying to write about hope when all I could muster was angry thoughts toward this person. How is she oblivious? How can she not realize how upset I am? How can she really truly think that she is the victim here, and how does she think she can make me feel guilty for being so distant? After hanging up following a truly awkward void of silence, I realized that instead of creating a scenario of some third party damsel in distress waiting for her Knight to save her, I should basically talk about hope from a first person POV.
When I think about who God is to me and what He has done on this journey I call my life, it's easy to get overwhelmed. I have always appeared to the outside onlooker to have it all together. I am the leader; I am the strong one; I am dependable. And most of the time, I have found joy from these things. But we all have our dark places, and there have certainly been times when I let the darkness consume my mind and steal my joy.
I believe that happiness is a choice most of the time. God brings us through our crap; He changes us, makes us stronger. And we have the ability to put these things behind us, to look at them with a new fresh perspective. Or, we can feel sorry for ourselves for our poor pitiful testimonies.
Most of the time, I think that I am that first person. For those of you who don't know, I have experienced a lot of different forms of abuse, ranging from emotional to physical. God has shown me so much through these things. He has given me a future and a hope, and has used these events to show me my calling and mission in life. However....there are moments like 10 minutes ago when I feel my flesh creeping back up on me, threatening to overtake my joyful spirit with how terrible certain situations are. And when I realize this....
I also realize that my need for the hope Christ provides is not past tense. It's never ending. A constant flow of grace showering down on me. I will never, ever be in a place that I do not need Jesus. And that doesn't make me moody, odd, depressed, or anything like that. It makes me human...a bleeding woman trying to touch His robe. A crying girl washing her Savior's feet with her tears. A short tax collector climbing a tree to catch even a glimpse of this King of the Jews.
I challenge everyone who reads this, even though not many do, to stop putting barbed wire fences around their acres of hope provided by Jesus, and to instead roll around in it. Frollick. Pick the flowers. Let the rain wash over you. Just enjoy it.
I know that is something that I need to be doing.