When I first set out to write this blog, I had the high ambition of trying to write something every day, focussing on the reason for my hope. Little did I guess that such ambitions come with a price…

I forgot about little things like distractions, not feeling like writing something, or wondering what to write when, at that particular moment in time, I was feeling quite hopeless.

I remember once, one of my Chinese students told me how happy I always seemed. We had a long talk about the difference between happiness and joy. I told them that I was not always happy–but that there was a joy in knowing that God really is in control and loves me, even when I don’t feel it. Hope is like that as well. It is not based on my feelings, and I need to remind myself of that, so how much more others.

If my hope is based on feelings, then I am quite hopeless. For often I feel the pressures of life and this world are a heavy weight trying to smother the breath of life out of me. Often I think I can feel the breath of the little foxes nipping at my heels as I run desperately from their sharp, knawing teeth. Often…

I talked with some friends in Israel today. Their voices sounded like they were in the next room. We had a great talk… basically encouraging each other as we struggle with similar situations. The world and little foxes…

It would be nice if we could see things like Elisha’s servant did. To see with our eyes that there is a very real battle being waged in the heavenlies against all of God’s people, and all who have a part in the fulfillment of His good word. But there is a price for this kind of seeing. We are not told the name of Elisha’s servant in II Kings 6:17, when Elisha prays for God to open his eyes. The servant’s eyes are opened. What an awe-inspiring site.

But Gehazi, Elisha’s prior servant forfeited that privilege. The world and little foxes got in the way. Take the time to reread II Kings 2-6. Gehazi saw a dead child rasied from the dead. He saw Naaman healed of leprosy. But rather than seeing it as opportunity to trust in the God of Israel, he saw it as an opportunity of gain for himself. He thought that he could take for himself the reward that Naaman offered Elisha.

II Kings 5:27 tells us that as a result, Naaman was stricken with leprosy and left the presence of Elisha. He never saw what was really happening. The things of this world got in the way, the little foxes nipped at his heels and he fell. Still, his story is not without hope. In II Kings 8, we get one last glimpse of Gehazi. God has not given up on him. Gehazi is serving “the King”. He is asked to tell the King of all that God did through Elisha.

And as Gehazi was telling the king how [Elisha] had restored the dead to life, behold, the woman whose son he had restored to life appealed to the king for her house and land. And Gehazi said, My lord O king, this is the woman, and this is her son whom Elisha brought back to life. (II Kings 8:5)

The woman is granted her request of the King, and Gehazi is found to be serving the Lord after all.

Sometimes, I fear that I am a little like Gehazi. I want to serve God, but… o those horrid buts… o those hope-filled buts…

But God… and that is what, in the end, I must learn to rely on. The one true God. He is my hope, and He is my salvation. Perhaps this too is what Gehazi learned, albeit the hard way. He had to leave Elisha’s service, but God was not through with him. May the story of Gehazi bring hope, when we think we have failed our great God. God does not give up on us so easily.  He does discipline us, but for our good.

When I look at the challenges I and others face, there is so much going on. I must learn to resist sin and I must see that there is a battle waged against us. But I must also understand that God allows much of what is happening for my best good as well as His glory. To purify and refine me. To change and mold me.

I find hope in these truths…