This week and next week, I am returning to Luke for two final lessons. The account this week is of the disciples on the road to Emmaus. I can honestly say that I can now totally relate to the discouragement they must have felt. They had entered Jerusalem a week before with great hope and anticipation. Much as we entered the hospital hanging on any word of hope. No doubt, that week they experienced ups and downs -- just as we had moments when things looked promising, only to be dashed by setbacks. And finally, like they watched their hopes be snuffed out as Jesus died on the cross -- we experienced the depths of heartache and despair as we watched our baby girl go.
And so their 7-mile walk back to Emmaus must have been torturous. I know. I can remember vividly our walk from the ICU waiting room (our home for 2-1/2 weeks) to the elevators, and leaving the hospital to go to the car. "We had hoped . . ." That was their words as they walked. And it was certainly ours, too.
But Jesus secretly walked with them and listened. And I have no doubt he has done the same with us. And when He revealed Himself to them -- oh, the joy they felt.
I am in that in-between part of the journey. I know He is with me. I know He hears me. But I am anticipating Him revealing Himself to me in all this -- restoring MY hope.