My hope is that this reflection is a refreshment to you and you hear the voice of your Heavenly Father more clearly, lean in, and rest more deeply in his love. 

I’m writing for an audience of one…

It’s just between me and you, Lord. No performing. No hiding. Not trying to impress, but just express. Express gratitude. Express grief. Express hopes. Express myself. I know you’re listening, leaning in.

You spoke and I came to be. I write because you made my mind light up with words! I write. It delights my soul. And I think you’re delighted that I’m delighted. 

I used to think my words didn’t matter. They were just raw feelings on a page, scribbled in notebooks, hidden away so that no one would find them. No one would know the depths of my sorrows, my anger, my depression. I was too much for anyone except the audience of a blank page. Without pretense or judgement.

But now I see you were there, too, Father.

And better than inanimate fibers, you whispered compassion. You whispered hope. Your words were prayers that sustained my groanings, even when I didn’t see it myself.

Today, I write knowing I’ll meet you here, in the swirling words, images, and colors of my mind. The sensations of hope, love, and the tears on my cheeks. You meet me here, in my quiet place. My writing place. In the space of stories, hope blooms.

Hope blooms because you draw close to me, daughter. I am the Master Gardener. I tend to you and care for my vineyards. I know you. I see the growth to come and the places that still need lifting up. Places that need rest. Places that need to heal.

Hope blooms as you dwell with me here, because I am your hope. My hope strengthens you. Makes the fibers of your being tingle as change is on the horizon.

It is no small thing that you unlocked the gate and let me through. The beautifully messy places. The places you were even scared to admit existed, with your greatest longings and sorrows. Will it ever get better? The vines of doubt twist and curl around your hopes. Choking life.

But I am life. And I am here. Let me tend to you. Let us see how hope blooms in your garden, dear daughter.

Hope Note Reflection:

What places in your heart need rest and extra care this season? Where is your hope waning as you wait? Can you trust Jesus with that part of your story? Take some time to journal your raw thoughts and talk to Jesus about them. And if you need some extra support, please let me know how I can pray for you.

Looking for some comforting Bible verses to navigate a hard season? Download my free printable: 10 Scriptures for an Anxious Heart.