"Hope is hearing the music of the future. Faith is having the courage to dance to it."
I adore its poetic encapsulation of living life passionately, purposefully, and with joy-infused abandon. That is the stuff right there. The goods. My soul burns to live like that. Intensely.
Not a word. I've attempted to cage this problem of my self-condemning yet pride-stained thoughts and lingering struggles from every conceivable angle. I've talked, shared, strategized, planned, scheduled, over-thought, fumed, and wept.
And it's in this wordless, speechless weariness that He has once again captured my attention with His embrace. I could burst with raw desire for Jesus in this moment -- a moment in which I'm also wrenchingly aware of my flaws and weaknesses.
I'm speechless. So His words must do the speaking... "What then shall we say? If God is for us, who is against us? He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him over for us all, how will He not also with Him freely give us all things? Who will bring a charge against God's elect? God is the one who justifies; who is the one who condemns? Christ Jesus is He who died, yes, rather who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who also intercedes for us. Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril , or sword?" ... or my own pride/insecurity/self-loathing, et cetera?
My tomorrow is in Jesus' eyes. The music of that tomorrow is sated with peace and freedom and explosive power and redemptive work and satisfying joy. That is truth. My mind may attempt to analyze that away... to doubt it... to fear it's derailment... to name myself as an exception to the promise. But it will stand, nonetheless, as the truth for my future. That's the music I hear today.
Jesus sings the song. He sings it over me. And I hear it.
And I will dance to it.