When a woman’s hand slides across her childless womb, when a widow gives in to a cold and empty bed, when life isn’t as it should have been. Is there really hope?
When grief pursues forcefully and without warning. When it catches us of guard and defenseless. When it feels cruel, unbearable and dark. Is there really hope?
When we are left feeling a deep ache that won’t go away and questioning it all. Why did it happen? Why do I feel so bad? Why is life unfair? We hope there is hope, we hope there is a light at the end of that pretty miserable tunnel. We can’t see it, can’t feel it, don’t know it. It is a grey fog pursuing and trying to overtake every sense that might pick up on hope, tricking us into thinking its an illusion or just something other people feel. “Other people feel good, what’s wrong with me?”
So where is hope?
Hope, like love, is unconditional. Not dependant on the right circumstances, feelings or good looks! It just is. It is more than what we wish for, it is how we wish it, a feeling of goodness bestowed upon something. It is something that wells up from the inside out. It can be in the darkness without having germinated into the light just yet.
It’s on the inside, it’s the good guy that fights against the darkness, pursuing the bad guy. It has the unending strength that somehow dodges all the bullets even when completely outnumbered. It is a main character that survives all else, and even if it is killed off, it finds its way back in the sequel.
Oftentimes grief is a consequence of an apparent end. The end of things is painful and hard to see beyond. No hope, no point, why bother? But know this about hope, it has no end. It can live in darkness, it does not need the right conditions to germinate, one day it just does. The roots still alive under the blackened earth of the wildfire. It blooms as half a smile, as feeling some warmth on your skin, as a small knowing there is love.
It just does…
How? I believe it happens one very teeny, tiny step at a time. By doing what you can do, not what you can’t. I can go for a walk in the sunshine, I maybe cannot run a marathon. I can get out of bed today, I maybe can’t meet someone for coffee…but maybe tomorrow I can, or maybe the next day. I can find one thing to be thankful for even if just the breath in my lungs. I can look heavenward if only with a glimmer of a prayer, that’s all it takes, just a glimmer, just a tiny bit. This is the supernatural exchange, our darkness, all of it, for God’s Hope. He lives in Hope, He lives for hope. He is in that “it just does” moment filling it with light and life.
Sure the darkness is very, very real. No arguement. But as real and deep the ache, so real and deep the hope.
Teeny, tiny steps. Teeny, tiny glimpses.
Hope lives, it just does.