That’s what I needed, a thrill of hope, and probably why I got a heavenly push to get up and head to church.
The biggest obstacle? Shoveling out the car.
That’s when I encountered my first thrill.
Some neighbor’d done most of the work and before I could do more than two scrapes, another neighbor showed up and swept it clean.
Which is part of the wonder of how God chooses to speak, reminding us we are not alone, interjecting thrills of hope.
Yesterday, God spoke heart to heart, reminding me through Isaiah 42:3, “He won’t break a bruised reed; he won’t extinguish a faint wick (the smallest hope).”
God, among the crowd, waiting to be baptized by John the Baptist, spoke of God’s plan to be one of us. Patrick reiterated the phrase, “I am the God who is with you.”
Then, the surprise of Cantique de Noel. Growing up Baptist, we would’ve packed up O Holy Night shortly after the last Christmas service. Yesterday, it came like a warm wind from the Spirit on a frigid Sunday in January.
The beauty of the music and words, passionately sung by Matt, brought rest to my weary heart through forgotten phrases.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices…
He knows our need, to our weakness no stranger…
Truly He taught us to love one another…
No matter what’s ahead in our country or personal lives, because of that Holy Night, HOPE lives, and we and our weary world dare rejoice.
Let all within us praise His Holy name.
May the God who is with you, surprise you, this day, with a thrill of hope.
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