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    DEVOTIONALS • December 16, 2025

    Hope with Memory

    By Millie Moya

    Hope with Memory - Ebenezer 712

    Opening

    My grandmother had a cedar table that once belonged to her grandmother. It was covered in marks: burns from hot pots, knife scratches, wine stains from celebrations that had long since become memories.

    “Why don’t we sand it down?” I once asked her when I was a child.

    “Because then it would lose its story,” she replied, running her fingers over a deep mark. “Every mark reminds me that this table has held families. It has survived moves. It has seen tears and laughter. If I sanded it down, I would lose the evidence that it can endure anything.”

    That is what true hope does. It does not erase the marks of the past to imagine a perfect future. It uses those marks as evidence that we have survived before—and that we can survive again. Hope is not born from amnesia. It is born from memory.

    Biblical Foundation

    “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” — Jeremiah 29:11

    “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” — Romans 8:28

    “The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.” — Exodus 14:14

    Reflection

    Jeremiah wrote those famous words about hope and a future to a people in exile. Exile. Not from a palace, but from Babylon. Not when everything was going well, but when their known world had already fallen apart.

    That hope was not born from ideal circumstances, but from remembering who God is and how He moves throughout history.

    Over these three weeks, we have been building something:

    • Week 1: We raised stones of “thus far the Lord has helped us”
    • Week 2: We gathered daily evidence of His goodness
    • Week 3: We defended that memory against discouragement

    None of that was simply an exercise in nostalgia. It was preparation for this moment—so that we could look forward and say: “The same God who brought me this far will carry me forward from here.” It’s not that the future will be easy. It’s that the future will not find us alone.

    When I hold my small collection of stones, I don’t only see what has already happened. I see a pattern of faithfulness pointing forward. I see evidence that God’s character does not change with circumstances. I see that my story with Him does not end in the chapter of pain, but continues into chapters that have not yet been written.

    This is hope with memory: trusting that the God who provided, comforted, sustained, and made His presence known in past chapters will be the same God in the chapters still to come. We don’t know what those chapters will look like—but we know who is writing them.

    Application Challenge

    This week, connect your “so far” with your “from here on”:

    🪨 Add one more stone — If you have a physical collection of stones or reminders, add one more. This one represents not something that has already happened, but your commitment to keep looking for evidence of God’s faithfulness in what is ahead.

    🔄 Share your story — Hope multiplies when it is shared. Tell someone how God has been faithful to you. Your “so far” may be the hope someone else needs for their “from here on.”

    📝 Write a letter to the future — Using the evidence from the past weeks, write a letter to the version of yourself who may face future hardship. Remind them:

    • How God has sustained you before
    • The specific ways He has provided
    • The moments when His presence was unmistakable
    • Why they can trust that He will remain faithful
    Practice “hope with memory”
    When you worry about the future, instead of trying to imagine how God will fix everything, remember how He already has.

    • “I don’t know how He will resolve this, but I remember how He helped me when…”
    • “I can’t see the way out, but I know He is the same God who sustained me when…”
    Road ahead representing hope with memory

    Closing Prayer

    Father, thank You because the hope You give us is not blind—it has memory. Thank You that our future does not depend on perfect circumstances, but on Your unchanging character.

    When we look ahead and feel afraid, remind us to look back and see Your faithfulness. When we cannot imagine how You will act, help us remember how You already have.

    You are the God of “so far,” and You are also the God of “from here on.” Into Your hands we place not only our grateful past, but our trusting future.

    May our stones of remembrance become stepping stones of hope. Amen.

    For Your Heart

    True hope does not ignore the marks of the past—it uses them as evidence that we can survive what lies ahead.

    “The same God who brought me this far will carry me forward from here.”