תֵּ ִ֤י
֖ י '׃ הֵֹמ תוֹחַ לְ תְִּו צְ חִִ֔נ בַ ֣דָא אֹ מַ רָ֙ו
I thought my strength and hope Had perished before the LORD. 21
Teeth grinding into the pavement, the target of God’ s arrows, the laughingstock of his peers, prey of the lion, lost in the mazes- Jeremiah, the prophet and author of Eichah- spares no sorrow in the depths of his grief. His loss of hope saturates the first half of the chapter until a glimmer is let in.
|
|
ִ֔פּיהוּ אוּלַ ֖ י ֙רָפָעֽ ֶבּ ן
וָ֥ ֵישׁ תִּ קְ ֽ ה ׃ Let him put his mouth to the dust— There may yet be hope. 22
|
|
|
|
Perhaps, there is hope. Something changes for Jeremiah and all of a sudden he lets the possibility of hope back into his life. The tone changes. Just the small glimmer enables him to find peace within himself. I opened my ears and my heart to other stories, of young women and young mothers, who faced this disease and survived and thrived. I gave trust to my doctors and care team. In the first few days, I couldn’ t find God when I was only looking for science and statistics. When I surrendered to the reality of my diagnosis but also let hope in, I could visualize a new world. It took months of surgeries and treatment, doubt and faith, Psalms and internet searches. I just celebrated my youngest child’ s fourth birthday, also marking 4 years of survivorship for me. I still carry hope and fear with me at every cancer scan. Letting hope in, a hope that changed over time, enabled me to navigate a new world.
21
Lamentations 3:17-18
22
3:29
34