Romans 8:25 “But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.”
“Don’t worry Grandma.” Those were the wise words my 3-year-old grandson spoke when his milk splattered across the table. In fact, encouraging the people around him not to worry turns out to be a staple in his vocabulary. Whenever he senses distress on any level, his empathy kicks into gear.
I couldn’t help but think of his advice a few days later when my computer asked me if I wanted it to correct a corrupted file. I clicked “agree.” And just like that, over 30,000 words from a recent project vanished from my USB. Evidently “correcting” meant deleting the file completely. I couldn’t retrieve it, no matter how hard I tried. So I called my son (who is my go-to with tech problems). Unfortunately, three of his friends were waiting for him to begin a round of golf.
I had no other recourse than to wait. The loss hung over me all day. So did worry. And regret. And resignation that I would have to start all over again from the beginning.
Then late afternoon my son called to see if I had made any progress. He installed an app that enabled him to dig deeper into my files, and sure enough he located the missing work. Relief washed over me in cascades of gratitude. What seemed impossible turned into reality. The lost was found. Hope restored.
It taught me something about the importance of not being so quick to give up hope.
In Romans 8, Paul exhorts the church to live by the Spirit, not the flesh. He knew of their sufferings and didn’t want them to lose hope. He assured them all they endured served a purpose. It prepared them for participating in the glory of God (v. 17). A certainty yet to come, one they would have to wait for, one that required patience.
So much of life involves patience. When interruptions invade our time, our default leans toward worry and frustration. I believe God wants us to adopt a better way. Learn to resist impatience and trust in the God who works all things together for our good (v. 28). Whether spilled milk or missing computer files, let’s not be so quick to dismiss hope. Heed my grandson’s words:
“Don’t worry.”