Hope

Last night while watching tv with Matt, I heard this quote by Friedrich Nietzsche. “Hope, in reality, is the worst of all evils because it prolongs the torments of man.” I let that roll around in my head for a while. How utterly heartbreaking is that notion… that hope is futile because, ultimately, we are destined to disappointment and failure, and to hope only extends our suffering. To bring hope into disrepute is to blow out the candle that’s burning for us somewhere up ahead in this darkness. Sometimes we only catch a glimmer of it, just enough to know it’s there, but we keep walking toward it in faith, believing it will lead us home. I am overcome with the thought that there are those who go through life’s impossible times without hope. That, in itself, is heartbreaking.

I’m not afraid to confess it. I am desperately clinging to hope. Without it, I would have sat down right where I was a very long time ago and would be there to this day. But I think I always believed the Word when it said, “There is surely a future hope for you, and your hope will not be cut off.” God has been so good to me. He allowed me to grow up in circumstances that taught me the importance of unconditional love, acceptance, trust, loyalty, commitment, and faith in a brighter day. He is the author of my story. And though there have been days when, if he’d have handed me the pencil, I would have erased until the eraser was gone and done a massive re-write, I believe that it’s a perfect story. From beginning to now, it’s His will for me, every smile and tear and mountaintop and valley--all of it made me this person I’ve become. And while there is MUCH room for improvement, I am a product of my story. From a very young age, I believed with all my heart that, “…hope that is seen is no hope at all…. But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.” I don’t know how “patiently” I waited, but God gave me my heart’s hope when He gave me Matt and my babies. Instead of using the eraser to erase the parts of my story that were difficult, I use the ink to write new chapters. Instead of erasing words like ‘fear’ and ‘doubt’ from the chapters of my childhood, I write, ‘courageous’ and ‘sure’ in the chapters of my own children. It’s an amazing thing.

If today, God looked down and decided I’ve met my blessing quota for this life, I hope I would be content with what He has already given me. But I have to come clean--there are other things I’m hoping for today… that, in faith, I am believing Him for. My heart is desperately searching for something specifically. I think on it every day, hoping. Praying. I remind myself that He knows the plans He has for me. Nothing surprises Him. I hold tight to hope. He is faithful, and either way, He is God, and He has my heart. In the past several months, I've adopted a new 'motto' it seems. And it's one that perfectly fits with every chapter of my life, past and present--He is big enough. Not an Earth shattering thought on the surface, but when I consider its truth, it settles and fills my heart like nothing else.