Getting Out Of The Hope Chest

hope chest

Stepping In To The Chest

My mom is a nurse and always had been. When I was a junior in highschool she had to work strange hours and had to travel as well. Sounds like a weird nursing job but she worked for a senior citizens group and would take them on trips.

That left me in the hands of my father while she was gone, or maybe it was the other way around. Once while she was gone on one of those trips my dad came home and had obviously been on some sort of binge. He was frantic and paranoid.

In what was one of his weirdest moments he told me that he was going to go outside and stand on the sidewalk. He wanted me to climb inside the hope chest that we had. The hope chest sat right in front of the window that faced the sidewalk.

Like a good and obedient daughter, I waited for him to get to the sidewalk and I slowly climbed inside the hope chest and shut it.

I actually shut myself inside the hope chest and waited to see what my dad would do.

About two minutes later he came back in the house and said “There are people coming to get us, when they get here you get in the hope chest and don’t come out”.

Ummm Okay dad.

No Hope

I don’t remember what came next but I do know that no one ever came for us and I didn’t have to hide in the chest. I’m assuming that we sat and watched tv then went to bed.

I’m sure that his mind was going through crazy scenarios at the speed of light until he finally dropped and passed out. We never talked about it again, never.

I’m positive that he had no memory that it even happened.

What a sad state of mind to be in.  He worshiped money, fame and drugs and I worshiped him. I wanted him to think I was exactly who he wanted me to be and would do anything to prove my loyalty to him.

I was worshiping the wrong father.

Getting out of the hope chest

My true Father watched me and my dad with sad eyes. We were both worshiping the wrong gods. My dads god was riches and mine was him. I cant imagine what my life might have been if I had known about my true God and how much He loved me. I can guarantee that I wouldn’t have climbed in to that hope chest.

I take that back, I probably still would have climbed in there because I just went along with my dad so that he wouldn’t freak out. It was best to just go through the motions with him until he was done. The sad part is that this didn’t seem strange to me at the time, I was so used to these type of things from him.

For a long time I know that is how God felt about me. He was just going through the motions,  keeping me alive, until I finally dropped and passed out. He  looked at me the way that I looked at my dad. He probably said “Oh no, not again” but continued to stick by my side while I destroyed myself.

One day He finally said “I’ve had enough, I’ve given you enough slack, its time for you to man up and and treat me the way you should”. I wish that I would have become a true follower of Christ a long time ago.

I wonder if my dad wished he would have man upped long ago and been a father to me and my siblings.

Man Up

I refuse to live a luke warm life, I refuse to just go through the motions to satisfy the people around me. I want to get out of that dang hope chest and take a stand for myself and my heavenly Father.

It’s time to really fight for our children, for our siblings, parents, friends and whom ever else we cross paths with. Tell them about our God and His sweet Son. Tell Him what they can have if the just accept His love. Set the example for them everyday in the way you speak, dress, act, treat others and praise His great name.

Its time to get out of the hope chest!

Let’s Pray

Loving Father thank you for a love and loyalty that we can’t find anywhere else. Teach us how to set an example for all the eyes that look upon us each day. Teach us how to get out of the hope chest, put our feet on the ground and spread the word of your Son. In the unmatchable name of Christ, amen.

It’s been 21 years since I got in that hope chest. It now sits in the living room of my home.  My kids set up a Barbie village around it on Christmas morning.  Pictures of my family rest on top of it. Inside holds a memory that I refuse to let live in my now life. We don’t open the hope chest.

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