This morning, I get on an airplane to fly away from my Baltimore children.
Getting on an airplane is not a new thing.
Hours in airports, and in the air, is not new, either.
Saying good-bye to my military family is certainly not uncommon (never easy, mind you, and little Brynley Joy is making it even harder).
HOWEVER, today, I’m flying with an 8 week, 4 day-old labradoodle puppy, named Jake.
I’m taking him to his forever home.
He’s going to live with some dear people, where he will be smothered in love.
We’ll be on the move for about 9 hours, minus delays, or any other issues.
For the last few days, as I’ve made arrangements for this little fur-baby, I’ve found myself using the word hope a lot.
I hope he will do OK in his little kennel under the seat for all those hours on two different flights.
I hope he will not whimper and cry.
I hope he will not disturb the people around me, and I become the most hated woman ever to fly the friendly skies of United Airlines.
I hope he will sleep.
I hope he will go under the seat (he’s gotten a few pounds heavier in the last few days).
I hope I won’t be a nervous wreck.
I hope he won’t miss his brothers and sisters too much.
I hope the airlines will be gracious and filled with grace.
There are no trial runs for this.
Unknowns…………….well, unknowns are out of my control and, therefore, I feel that way.
That’s the thing about the future and the unknowns.
Control is totally eliminated.
In this case, the word hope is being used improperly.
I’ve made a huge vernacular mistake.
I should never have inserted it in any of those sentences.
I can “wish” all I want.
I can “pray” for each of those things.
I can “desire” that everything fall into place the way I want.
But, to hope means I am putting my trust in an object that is unworthy of such a BIG WORD (even if it only has four letters).
That’s a lot of pressure to put on one little cute fur-ball.
I went back to read my own past blogs.
When I hope for something that is to come, or about to happen, or is expected in the near future, I am putting my faith in something (more like, SOMEONE) that is BIGGER, FAITHFUL, and TRUE.
In an article on the psychology of hope, the author says this:
“Hopeful people share four core beliefs:
1. The future will be better than the present.
2. I have the power to make it so.
3. There are many paths to to future goals.
4. None of them is free of obstacles.”
Another author insists, “to have hope one must have faith in something bigger than you, whether it is a higher power, a child, a loved one, a mission, or a cause…”
Both are dead wrong.
In and of myself, there is no possible power to muster up hope; and,
NO ONE can give me the assurance of hope….what a terrible, heavy sense of responsibility to place on a child, or a loved one!
One hymn writer, Edward Mote, understood this entirely, when he wrote,
So, to this end, I pray…that by the end of today’s journey, my heart remains at peace in the assurance of God’s promise:
