A Reflection on Hope

 

I started this year praying for the ability to hope. To keep my focus on God and trust Him through everything that came my way. I wanted to live each day intentionally, seeking the Lord’s strength and mercy. I knew I needed His grace to discover reasons to hope and live with joy and peace. More than anything, I wanted trust that God had a purpose for everything I experienced throughout the year.

I wanted hope cemented in my heart.

You see, in my mind, I never doubted God as the source of my hope or that He could restore my hope. The actual problem resided in my heart – the one place I desperately needed cooperation.

I had no idea where the journey would lead, what lessons I would learn, or how pain would be used to refine my desire to have hope.

Today, as I think about some of the things that happened this year, I struggle to comprehend it all.

Heartache. Pain. Uncertainty. A lot of challenges and situations I would have avoided if I was given the chance. Times I begged God for relief.  Days I struggled with a clouded mind.

Pain. Tragedy. Sorry. Anguish. Disappointment. Anger.

Even though I endured many difficult situations, I also experienced moments filled with joy and inspiration. Days that started with bleakness ended in laughter. Daunting tests with good results. Uncomfortable procedures that brought relief.

New friendships formed. Old friendships renewed. The joy and excitement of welcoming new babies. The exhilaration and promise of weddings. The temporary sorrows of death.

This year reminded me that when I hope in God, I must be willing to remain steadfast, to trust and to remember all aspects of my life’s journey are intertwined and designed by God.

There was a lot that I wished I didn’t have to experience. Issues and hardships I wanted to avoid.

How many times have I read the Scripture passages that say all things work together for good and that God’s ways are higher than my mine (Romans 8:28; Isaiah 55:8-9)? Truth, yes.

But, a H-A-R-D truth when combined with painful trials.

And, a truth that helped me mature this year.

How?

I realized that I began to let go a little bit more. To stop trying to control every area of my life. To trust God more.

Hope, I learned, wasn’t passive and dreamy. It had to be a day-to-day, minute-by-minute decision to live my life yielded to God.

To anchor my entire being to Him. To allow the Holy Spirit to mold me into the daughter my Heavenly Father created me to be. To continue trusting His goodness, even when the direction He led me seemed void of direction.

I’ve experienced the Lord’s faithfulness repeatedly.

I’ve watched Him answer prayers in ways I never imagined possible.

I’ve observed the healing of broken relationships.

I’ve found encouragement from watching other people cling to their faith in God – praising Him even though they seemed to be drowning. They trusted God to perfect them and bring them out of their trials stronger and wiser.

Maybe my hope was never defeated or absent. Maybe it just got battered and almost crushed. Maybe I needed to readjust my focus, to take time to shift through the debris of my hurting soul, until I started to discover the bits and pieces of hope that remained.

I wouldn’t want to repeat the challenges I endured this year, but I can honestly say that each time I was forced to my knees and yielded my right to ease and comfort, I found a new level of hope, a new level of trust, a new level of love for God. Each time, I came away with a deeper desire to please Him.

I began the year praying for “the hope to hope.”

And, as the year ends, I continue to pray for hope. Specifically – that my hope will never waiver from the Lord.