I was in a bible study once and the teacher had brought a ladder in with her that morning. We were all a bit baffled, but we knew that whatever it was, it was going to be great!
I don’t remember the teaching, but I do remember the ladder.
As she neared the end of her talk, she asked us if we had Hope.
Hope.
She said some have hope with a small “h.”
And then she began climbing to the top step of the ladder, and once there, turned around, faced the room and said, “But others have Hope with a capital “H.”
A capital H.
She climbed down and asked, “So, what Hope do you have?”
Hope with a small h, or — and up again she went — Hope with a capital H.
Small h.
Capital H.
Three or four times we watched her climb up and down asking the same question each time she went:
Small h?
Capital H?
It’s been 18 years since I sat with the other wide-eyed women listening to our beloved teacher challenge us to leave hope behind for Hope.
Hope. Hope. Hope.
Hope with a capital H, always and forever.
My Hope is built on nothing less, than Jesus’ blood and righteousness.
I dare not trust the sweetest frame, but wholly trust in Jesus’ name.
On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand,
all other ground is sinking sand.
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