Today I pray to see hope. I’ve created it on my own for most of my life. I let stuff go because I could see the thing that was coming in replacement. Well, I moved away from where I thought hope had led me. From Cali to Austin I’m back with my daughter and waiting on God to show me something beautiful in the act of obedience to the direction he gave.
When I drive out of my apartments I see a large lit up sign that says “M Robinson Jewelers”. Last night I watched City of Angels and saw the woman studying her own initials as a connection formed in my inner voice. To know something and not know why or what it means is a troubling puzzle that can’t be solved alone. I need God to piece it together for me.
In all the things I could create here on earth and all of the beautiful creations others have made I have lost my luster for material objects of all sorts. I asked myself “What is it I’d want to create with all I’ve learned?” The answer then found me in the small voice again as I made a cup of coffee. “Creating hope.”
My favorite way to create is in taking what I have and what I find (usually the stuff others throw in the trash) and making something beautiful of those things. I once overused the phrase, “He creates beauty from ashes,” in a book I authored retelling the true story of a man who was snatched away from death by divine power. I believe it. So I should be excited as I sit in the silence of unknowing with ashes of all of my hopes and dreams scattered about. I should be calling up to the Heavens with gladness as I announce, “God your canvas is ready down here!”
Today I leave for 6 consecutive days of flying and then I come back to a daughter how hopefully has found her new job in Austin. I also might see D on this trip – God willing. Oh it feels freeing to say that. I feel a weight lifted from my shoulders when I proclaim a thing and then sit it on a table that I know I’m not able to set. God willing.
Maybe the thing I’ve been seeking has been staring me in the face waiting for me to pick it up and start painting. Maybe my purpose and finding what sets my heart on fire is already here and I’m just meant to start typing. One word at a time as the stories flow to me and through me on this journey of life on earth – so prescious and fleeting.
Memories. Experiences. Love. Those are the only things that remain when we leave. I hope for mine to be sweet and to carry a scent that will linger on long after I’ve gone back home.
Well I have to get into the shower now. Let this journey begin.
God, give me beauty to write from ashes and a documentary of what I love the most. Hope.
June 9, 2026
Post script: I didn’t have to search far to find an image for this entry. Two days ago I ran for 45 minutes on the stairstepper and found “Hope in the trash” at the community gym restroom on my way out. I’m confident this was a sign for me.
