023: Esperer

March 10, 2010
Revelation 21:1-22:7

Esperer. Does anyone speak or read or know French? It’s the infinitive form of the verbs “to hope” and “to wait.” I’m going to get it tattooed onto my side.

When I lived in Rome I had a cool couple come through and stay with me. They slept on my couch by night and kept my roommates and I company by day. The gal, Joy, speaks French. We were talking about words and she mentioned “esperer” and gave the definition. I thought it was incredibly cool that the French language has developed in such a way that these two key ideas of my faith are wrapped into one word. I looked it up on the internet to confirm Joy’s definition. She was right.

It’s been two years, and I’ve been planning my tattoo. I'm impulsive about some decisions, (“Oh, look, there are sales on plane tickets from Seattle to Egypt. Should I go to Egypt over Christmas break? Hm… Let me think about it… Uh, yes. OK. I’ll buy the tickets.”) but so not about others. The tattoo has been a slow deliberation. But I’m ready to do something outside my normal realm… a little on the edge… something that doesn’t necessarily have a specific utilitarian value or role, but does satisfy an internal desire to assert a little independence. So a tattoo it is.

While I’ve been thinking about the meaning of this word, though, and also the symbolic and deeper meanings I associate with it, I’ve been thinking about how I feel like much of my life has been the enactment of this verb. I suppose it’s the bane of being an idealist, but I always feel like I’m hoping for something or waiting for something. Much of it has just been my forward thinking perspective looking at predictably time-oriented “next steps”: waiting to finish high school, waiting to go away and try life someplace else, waiting to finish college, waiting to see far away friends, etc. My choices certainly have something to do with it, though, such as waiting to have sex until I’m married.

Sometimes I get so wrapped up in the process of waiting or hoping for something, though, that I fail to be actively involved in the now. I think I’m getting better at this, but I also don’t want to lose my long-standing habit of delayed gratification and being able to hope enough in what is to come that I can wait patiently (or semi-patiently!) right now.

Of course, the most important and most significant hope I can wait for is the return of Jesus. I love this passage in Revelation because it is a little glimpse into the future, and an encouragement to KEEP ON hoping and KEEP ON waiting.

Everything seems to kind of come down to that. Why do I wait to make out with a man? Because I hope and wait for Jesus. Why do I wait to move out on my own or make big-ticket purchases? Because I hope and wait for Jesus. Obviously, I’m not waiting on Jesus to come back and tell me what to do, but rather my perspective – or at least I’m trying to make it such – is one focused on hoping and waiting for the eternal, BIG picture outcome, rather than getting wrapped up in the here and now. Which is why I want this word to be permanently on my body: because as long as I’m alive, I will hope and wait on my beloved Jesus.