Lately, I've been reminded again and again how "hope does not disappoint."

It's not a functional/experiential reminder as much as a quiet inner-voiced reminder during the days. 

Cleaning out the closet and reading labels..."hope does not disappoint."

Unpacking stuff and feeling overwhelmed; "hope does not disappoint."

Wondering how to tackle a real people-to-people problem..."hope does not disappoint."

But what happens when we are disappointed and we've done all we can do and the wind still blows and the bricks still fall and our faith shivers unprotected in the darkening world?

Then what?

When your marriage is on life-support, your brother-in-law goes to war, and the troops are surrounding your own exhausted heart and you've been on your knees so much that they are rough and bleeding...what's up with the "hope does not disappoint?"

When your plans are in ashes, the rent is due, the kids and the dog are sick, Christmas is around the corner and the cupboards are bare and your hand is empty...what then? What do you do with the disappointment and the crushed hope?

Or your wife walks, your kids are lost, or you must move to follow an unknown star; where is this "hope that does not disappoint"?

I think I caught a glimpse of it today.

I was rushed and overwhelmed and my quieting time got squished to a quick moment of prayer on my knees while I wedged between the temporary office on the couch and the coffee table. 

I heard it. I heard myself pray that God would raise the roof of hope in this home - our blending families of adult kids, grandkids, Charlie dog, one fish, and a few trinkets.

And you know - raising the roof of hope in this home did not come from me. It was a still small peaceful rushing river kind of voice in the very deepest parts of my soul that whispered the prayer on my behalf.

...

It is time to remember who builds this nest - this home. It is time to remember how the foundation of hope is laid in this home and who authors every good thing. 

So I got up off of my knees, picked up my Hazelnutty coffee, and started praying as I walked around the Price homestead.

I prayed that God would raise the roof of joy

and reconciliation

and peace

and love

and patience

and shenanigans

and FREEDOM

and life that matters

and Family

and redemption

and faith

and silliness

and ADVENTURE

and future

and service

and community

and His spirit

and hope

in this home of ours. 

In this home of Howard, Allie, Jade, Howard Jr & Linndy; Madi, Kacie, Paul, Kenan, Cam'ron, Derek, Asia, Charlie-dog, and no-name fish 

Hope would be raised.

Our focus would be on a God we cannot see

who blows through 

as constant as a Kansas wind

who's form is unseen

but who affects greatness

That our hope in this eternal unseen God would not disappoint

even though circumstances

try to suck the life from us

That for the joy set before us

we would hang on with both hands

to a hope that does not disappoint

so that we can share

this fresh water of living

with folks who are still thirsty

And aren't we all still thirsty at times?

And if you can get past the mullet, Wayne Watson sang "HomeFree" the year my brother-in-law went to war and I had my first Christmas with a baby inside. Something about it reminds me to hope in what I cannot see despite the chaos of what may be before me or within. Enjoy. (Close your eyes if mullets offend.)

Let's raise the roof folks.*

(Try this link if the one above does not work for you, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G6l1kpJ0x5k.)

*and get this party started!