“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
–Jeremiah 29:11 NIV

This is the verse. My verse. The verse I cling to when life doesn’t make sense. I need this verse. I need to know God has a plan for my life – a good plan. I need to know I have hope and a future. (my hope and future involves a beach house – just sayin’)

Life is hard, confusing, tragic. It hurts.

I often feel overwhelmed – as if I’m shoveling snow in a blizzard.

Hard as I try, I can’t get a handle on it.

I’m in the middle of the unknown and awful – all I can do is hold on and hope for something better, something more:

• Healing
• Restoration
• Hope
• A Future

How do I make sense of circumstances that crack my chest and knock the breath from me?

What do I say to the mother whose three year old has cancer?

The one whose beloved is murdered as they pray?

Those who watch their children starve to death on corners of the world we rarely see?

Hope and a future? Where is their hope? Their future?

I search the horizon and I can’t see it.

Our fallen, broken world has trouble – this side of eternity has illness and poverty, broken bridges and death.

Our hope frequently lies in the unseen. What waits beyond the horizon.

My faith (or lack thereof) boils down to a simple question:

“But what about you?” He asked. “Who do you say I am?”   Matthew 16:15 NIV

When trouble comes and life goes sideways do I believe His promises?

Do I trust and believe Jesus is who He says He is?

Sometimes.

Sometimes I question and doubt.

Sometimes I get mad and think God is asleep at the wheel. Other times, my doubt and unbelief leaves me alone and wandering in a painfully dry and dusty desert.

He loves me still.

When I lay down my burdens and trust Him, I get what I need – hope for my future. It’s not easy. It’s not magic. Sometimes it’s moment by painful moment.

But God, our loving Father will never leave me – or you hopeless.

His love never fails.

He can restore even what the locusts have eaten away.