Some two thousand years ago one night,
Hope came in the form of a newborn child.
Wrapped in swaddling clothes in a manger.
That innocence never once to be defiled.
For thirty-three years He walked the Earth.
A life led as His Father’s faithful witness.
He provided hope in the form of miracles.
With the greatest being God’s forgiveness.
For what greater hope could we ever ask,
Than to be restored to our original design?
Living at peace with our beloved Creator.
A life of shaming sins forever left behind.
What is hope if it doesn’t offer assurance?
It is something more than wishful thinking.
It becomes all the more powerful and real,
When those who believe in Him are giving.
This giving that we offer He first gave us -
His undeserved grace and sacrificial love.
If we extend this to who He puts in our lives,
We are the testimony of hope from above.
We carry this hope to who don’t believe.
Who’ve been too deceived to know it’s real.
But when they hear of Christ’s empty tomb,
Hope is something even death can’t steal.
Ultimately, the root of hope is God’s love.
It is this love that will conquer every fear.
We will find hope is not an empty promise.
But the certain truth that our God is near.
Every member of His creation has hope
If they choose to have faith in the unseen.
May we become that tangible evidence,
And a reason that hope is to be believed.