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Hope

                     I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 3:14)

Yesterday morning’s BecomeNew podcast was about hope. They even included a “hopefulness assessment,” which I failed miserably. In the talk, John Ortberg referred to this verse (I think). He discussed the Greek version of the text and the idea that pressing on involved an image of a Greek runner with his head stretched forward in his determination to win the prize. What came to mind is the scene in Chariots of Fire in which Eric Liddell’s coach tried to get him to “run right” in the manner described. But Liddell couldn’t run both right and fast. He won races with his head thrown back.



Another image that came to mind was the image that I associated with the young folks who play at homesteading. For them, homesteading is about watching their kids (goats) caper about in pajamas. (Kids in Pajamas).  After that, the images that leaped to mind for the sort of hope being described were a beautiful runway model or a hunk dressed in the armor of a Roman gladiator, with his skin oiled and all his muscles rippling: gorgeous or glorious.

And as I fumed about all of this, I went out to the kitchen to pull three half-pints of rhubarb sauce, ready and waiting for this winter when I make muffins or whatever, then went back to my office to pull leaves from plants so I could dehydrate them for use this winter. Granted, it’s not “spiritual,” idealistic, or pretty. It’s not gorgeous, glorious, or glamorous. And I might be completely off-base, but I have to wonder if perhaps there is more than one way hope can appear and exist. And what do we do when we find an Eric Liddell hoper?

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