I didn’t sit down with the intention of writing this. It seems to be much easier to voice and focus on negative feelings. I have a couple of drafts saved in fact, on emotions like confusion, doubt, loss and regret. But sometimes God says, “I’ve got something better for you to focus on.”
And in this case, that’s hope.
Nine months ago, I would’ve never known that the excitement of spring break would turn into fear of the unknown – a worldwide pandemic that would attempt to cripple us as a nation, as families, as individuals. We became completely divided over morals, politics, and life as we knew it. Some of you may have seen the recent commercial for Match.com where the “devil” meets a girl who revels in causing chaos and enjoying all that is 2020. They have a fun, lighthearted relationship, living in complete destruction. What I doubt the creators of that commercial intended, but what is true, is that all of this, the majority of the last nine months, have given Satan a lot to smile about. In all the ways he could manage, he tried to break us.
Maybe it sounds foolish. Maybe it doesn’t sound like a worthy balance when I look back at everything the world has gone through recently, but there’s something worthwhile I’ve been holding onto.
The promise of hope.
I’ve been driving to work some mornings when the sun is freshly shimmering in the sky. And I’ve breathed in. And breathed out. Taken in the warmth of the sun, the colors of the leaves that range from golden to burnt orange to a soft red. The sky that is sometimes painted blue, not a cloud in sight, or in a cascade of colors as pretty as a watercolor painting. I’ve witnessed acts of kindness, seen posts about engagements, marriages, births. Traditions put into practice or discoveries being made. I’ve said things like “I hope this time next year we won’t need to wear masks anymore.” That’s what hope is. A spark, just a hint of new life, growth, something to cling to and hold onto in pursuit of something better, bigger, MORE.
But I can’t just hope on a whim, out of thin air. I have to have hope that rests on a foundation. In this case, my foundational belief: that God is good, He is with us (even if/when we feel He is far!), and that He is far from finished with us. In these things, and so many more, I rest my hope.
My hope is built on Him.
So many terrible things have happened in the last nine months. Things that deserve to be mourned. But sometimes trying to focus on just a bit of good can help in getting through some of the pain. Where there’s been division, there’s also been care, intentionality, relationship-building, healing. People have sought out the Lord, the hope He offers, like I’ve never seen before. This situation is not good. It hasn’t been good for nine months, for those that have lost someone, had relationships crumble, felt alone, and helpless. But there are sprigs of new life coming. Life is pushing through the seemingly impassible concrete, by God’s hands.
I pray and I hope that God heals our cities, our states, countries, and world. I pray and hope that restoration, a sense of normalcy comes soon. And day by day, I’m going to try and find those small pictures of hope.
