Hope!

The scene recorded in Luke 24:13-24 fascinates me-two sincere disciples walking along the dusty road to Emmaus telling how the last nail has been driven in Israel's coffin. God, in disguise, listens patiently, his wounded hands buried deeply in his robe. He must have been touched at the faithfulness of this pair. Yet he also must have been a bit chagrined. He had just gone to hell and back to give heaven to earth, and these two were worried about the political situation of Israel.

“But we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel.”
But we had hoped …
How often have you heard a phrase like that?
“We were hoping the doctor would release him.”
“I had hoped to pass the exam.”
“We had hoped the surgery would get all the tumor.”

Words painted gray with disappointment.

What we wanted didn't come.

What came, we didn't want.

The result?

Shattered hope.

We trudge up the road to Emmaus dragging our sandals in the dust, wondering what we did to deserve such a plight. “What kind of God would let me down like this?”

You see, the problem with our two heavy-hearted friends was not a lack of faith, but a lack of vision.

Their petitions were limited to what they could imagine-an earthly kingdom. Had God answered their prayer, had he granted their hope, the Seven-Day War would have started two thousand years earlier and Jesus would have spent the next forty years training his apostles to be cabinet members.

You have to wonder if God's most merciful act is his refusal to answer some of our prayers.
Our problem is not so much that God doesn't give us what we hope for as it is that we don't know the right thing for which to hope. (You may want to read that sentence again.)

Hope is not what you expect; it is what you would never dream.
It is a wild, improbable tale with a pinch-me-I'm-dreaming ending.
It's Abraham adjusting his bifocals so he can see not his grandson, but his son.
It's Moses standing in the promised land not with Aaron or Miriam at his side, but with Elijah and the transfigured Christ.
And it is the two Emmaus-bound pilgrims reaching out to take a piece of bread only to see that the hands from which it is offered are pierced.

From God Came Near, Copyright 1987 Max Lucado