Hope

A couple of days ago I was given a bracelet from a sweet woman, who i have come to know a little bit through a friend. It is a simple plain silver bracelet that reads "HOPE" on it. She said she had been wearing it on her wrist, hoping to run into me or my mom someday and give it to one of us. I could tell it was worn, and probably had many years behind it. As i wore it the rest of the night on my wrist I didn't really think too much about, it other than it was pretty cute, and it was so nice of her to give it to me. But when I got home that night, I went to take the keys out of my ignition and it caught me eye.

Hope.

We say the word a lot, we hear it every day. We know it holds significance, but do we understand all the word entails? Do we know what Hope, truly means?

So I looked up the definition...

¹hope

 verb \ˈhōp\

: to want something to happen or be true and think that it could happen or be true

: to desire with expectation of obtainment

: to expect with confidence

I have hope that my little brother will make a full recovery. That one day, he will wake up, and regain conciseness. That his brain will heal. That I will be able to see him smile again, laugh, walk, run, be himself. I want that. I want that so bad. My mom does, my dad does, my brothers do. We all do. We want that for our sweet boy, and I expect that. I expect a miracle, with a humble heart. I have faith and hope, that my brother will receive just that. 

November 1, 2014...that freezing cold day on Pine valley mountain. That moment when time stood still. When my brother lay on the ground, struggling for air, eyes rolled back, aspirating  and bleeding from the neck up. 

In the moment...he was still here with us, still alive, and breathing with what little strength he could. 

In that moment...he had a chance. 

In that moment...we had hope. 

I get very emotional, thinking back to that day, the circumstances, what he must have been feeling, what everyone there might have been feeling. From the very moment the accident happened. 

It wasn't over then. Not yet. He hadn't given up. To know that he was so close that day to passing away, sends a shock though my heart. To know that he was so close. But he hung on. He hung on hard. He overcame the odds and he fought. Through the pain, the weather, the waiting. He held on. Our father in heaven held on with him. He gave him a chance. WE ALL had a sense of hope from that very moment we got word of what had happened. Hope that my little brother would somehow someway, receive a miracle and make it...even if it was just for a second longer. 

We had hope. Hope that our prayers would be heard, and answered. Hope that our almighty God would be able to protect him, heal him, hold him. Hope that the fire department would be able to attend to him until more help arrived. Hope that the Life Flight crew would be able to keep my brother alive while making their way to the hospital. Hope that the surgeon would be able to help my brother, and that he would make it through surgery. Hope that I would be able to see my brother again tell him how much I loved him, even if it was one last time in a hospital room. Hope that we would get to spend yet another day with him. Hope that with each passing day, he would receive blessings and see miracles, progressing little by little, day by day. 

On that first night, in the hospital, I remember hearing my dad, puffy eye'd and shaking, say something along the lines of this to a visitor...

"It doesnt matter who, what, when, where, how, or why....all that matters, is that my boy, is in there (pointing to the ICU doors) and he's getting a chance!"


Things could have been very different that bitter cold, unfortunate day. But for some reason, and a reason I thank my Father in Heaven for every second of every day... 

My Britt, was given a chance. 

And we, were given hope.