Refuge of Grace

“I really hope my kite will fly today,” my daughter says uneasily. Several Easters ago, both kids received kites and her brother’s soared beautifully, while hers struggled to make it off the ground. “We will give it our best shot,” I encourage. However, inside I also wonder if the kite will take flight.

Uncertainty creeps in because our hope is found in the unpredictable wind. Will it be a blustery day which leads the kite to a nearby tree to become a tangled mess? Or will the wind blow gently allowing the kite to dance? We don’t want our hope to disappoint us.

The kids head over to the nearby park with my husband, kites in hand. When I walk by several minutes later I hear, “Mom it’s flying!” A priceless smile spreads across her face, a joyful giggle escaping her mouth. On this particular day, the wind lifts the kite as it dances lightly on the breeze. However, the result could have easily been tangled string or a broken kite. No matter how much we want, we can’t trust the wind.

With glee, we watch the kites dip and dive. Suddenly, both kites take sharp descents toward the ground, landing crumpled. Disappointed, both kids reel in the string, also eager to try again. Each child hopes the kite will soar and yet, the wind is such a fickle source of hope—it can easily let us down.

Watching these somersaulting kites, I can’t help but think about how our hope in Jesus’ resurrection isn’t like the wind. Our hope is “firm and secure” (Hebrews 6:19). This means on the easy days, our hope is secure. And also on the difficult days, our hope is unwavering. No matter the ups and downs of our daily lives, we can trust in Jesus. The tomb doesn’t hold Him—He is alive! And when we trust in Him, we have this living hope. The best kind of hope.