part 1.
i went to bed last night thinking: what is this thing called hope (romantic hope).
what is this thing called hope, that we should so gladly suffer it.
what is this thing called hope, that someone like me, wise far beyond my years, with all my experience and insight and with all the peace that faith gives, that i should be willing to forsake all this if only to hope.
oh what is this thing called hope, that man should be given hope, that man should be given to hope.
something so terribly inefficient, so physically and emotionally messy.
why do we hope, why do i still hope, me.
and my conclusion was that we cannot help but hope. i cannot, this ian ho, he cannot but to hope. if anyone has self-control, has peace in heart and soul, i am he. but i say again, i cannot help but hope.
such is the terrible power of...
and i've found what i'm looking for. there is one true peace. it is not a peace that overpowers everything else that has such strength to draw us away, it is not a mighty peace. it is a peace that is itself peaceful. it is a peace that embraces a willing person. it is a peace that is found if returned to, even if left for awhile, no matter how left, or how long a while. it is a peace that surrounds a heart of surrender, of prodigal surrender.
hallelujah. "You are my hope."
end of part 1.
part 2.
i've found a new church, and i hope i don't have to eat my words. i like the place. importantly, aside from a few truly minor errors, the sermon was actually very good.
the best part is this.
Pastor: (paraphrasing) "i tell you (here pointing at the whole auditorium), if our faith increases, this church will...
EXPLODE."
yes, sir. thank you, sir.
end of part 2.
