A Letter

Dear Hope,

You were the one who poked shining rays into the darkness in the aftermath of my family’s divorce, and gave me the courage to believe that I could write a different story for my own life and family. And I did.

You were the one who beckoned me to hold on when my own marriage was at the brink of destruction, and gave me the faith to believe that things didn’t have to end that way. And they didn’t.

You were the one who picked me up off the ground following the death of my daughter and whispered that my brokenness could be used for good things. And it has been.

You were the one who gave me comfort during the long nights that I wondered if I would see my wayward child again. And I did.

You were the one who has given me strength to fight against the odds and push through the horror of my illness every day because my life can still bring glory to God. And I have.

You were the one who kept whispering to me that all these broken pieces can be redeemed and used to make something beautiful. And I listened.

You are the one who has never let me give up because you have always shown me the glimpses of what things can turn out to be if I just hold on, but I’ve got to admit something, Hope. I have been struggling to trust you. What are supposed to be seasons are feeling more like lifetimes, and the dark that I keep believing can’t get any darker still manages to. Isolation is crippling, and the barrage of hard things makes it difficult to believe I will ever know something better. I appreciate the relationship we have had so far, but could you throw me a bone here? I’m weary!

I remember “I have put my Hope in your Word,” so I turn there, seeking…

“Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.” I feel lacking for the words to even pray, so I just start with what’s inside; “Help Lord, we need you. Please help!”

“Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.” My strength is waning, practically non-existent, but here is a promise I can cling to. So I wait expectantly for renewal.

“Hope that is seen is not hope.” So when hoping for what I cannot see I have to wait with patience. Patience. Deep breath. Realizing there is nothing I can do, but God can.

“And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.” Ok God, you said it. So I’ll hang on and wait. Please give me the strength to do that. Help me choose hope and joy even when it’s the hardest thing to do right now. Bring back my hope.