Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how to stir up one another on to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near. Heb. 10:23-25
Dear Lord Jesus, as I meditate my way through this “let us” patch of gospel admonitions today, a few things jump out at me. On one hand, I’m convicted about the importance of holding onto the hope you’ve won for us—a living hope, an anchor of hope, a glorious hope. Our hope is certain, but I certainly need to avail myself of it—grab hold of it like my favorite fly rod or one of my beloved cameras. I ignore hope to the peril of my heart.
I’m so thankful that we don’t hope in hope; we hope in you. It’s not about crossing our fingers, but seeing your cross and everything you’ve already accomplished for us. It’s about seeing our future nestled down into your merciful and mighty palms, for you’ve made promises you alone can keep. It’s about abandoning ourselves to the advancing of your kingdom, not turning inward and guarding our little fiefdoms. You are faithful and you are loving, and that’s all we really need to remember. Not hoping is not an option.
Jesus, this Scripture also convicts me about the importance of being a lot more intentional and regular in bringing encouragement to my friends, my family members, and those you put in my way. As the great Day of your return approaches—the day when all hoping in part will give way to the fullness of hope—help me to speak your words of life and hope and healing to those who need them the most.
Help me to bring your hands of mercy and grace to bear in very tangible and timely ways. Very specifically, to whom would you send me today? Put names and faces before me who need the encouragement you alone can bring. So very Amen I pray, in your loving and faithful name.