Fierce Hope: An Advent Journey of Waiting and Wonderنموونە

I noticed very early on in my life that I had a soft spot for the underdog. If I were watching sports, I would root for the most unlikely team. If it seemed like a character in a movie was overlooked or knocked down, I’d be the one leaning in, hoping they’d make a comeback. People who fly under the radar, or don’t seem to be the obvious choice—they have my attention. I love to see the forgotten rise and the underestimated surprise everyone! These turnaround moments feel so gospel-like, and scripture is full of them.

John the Baptist was one of the greatest prophets in Scripture, and in many ways, an unlikely choice for such a pivotal role. He was an outlier—living in isolated places, eating locusts, and wearing camel’s hair. The man who came to be known as “The Voice” was born to parents who had endured years of silence and delay—a striking irony, that the one who would baptize multitudes into new life was himself the child of a barren womb.

From the outside, it seemed improbable that John would be God’s chosen vessel, the forerunner of the Messiah. Surely there were others who looked more prominent and prepared. And yet, God chose John.

It also makes no sense that Mary—a young, powerless woman—would be chosen to carry the Messiah. Who would have chosen someone from the margins of society to carry the hope of the world? Only God. Despite her obscurity, God used her to usher in His greatest rescue.

Fierce hope isn’t wishful thinking or blind optimism—it’s the audacity to believe that God does His best work in the most unlikely places with the most unlikely people. It’s a kind of hope that stares at setbacks, circumstances, and impossibilities, and refuses to let go of the belief that God is not done. And if He’s not done, He’s still making it beautiful. Fierce hope will grip onto the tiniest morsel of possibility, shamelessly tenacious, confident that God will finish what He has begun. No matter how far-fetched it seems. No one is disqualified. No one is unseen.

Perhaps you have all the reasons in the world why now is not your season, or why your circumstances exclude you, or how you are obviously not the right person for the healing, the opportunity, or the miracle. I’ve been there. Some days I am still there. But what I return to time and time again is that God seems obsessed with the overlooked and the underestimated.

Thankfully, our future is not defined by our circumstances, our mistakes, our family of origin, or even the quirky parts of our personality. God is not scanning the horizon for the most obvious or skilled. That’s what makes the gospel such good news. It stretches to the margins and edges. It’s generous and expansive, sweeping up the left-behind and the left-out, reminding us that grace never plays favorites.

Where do you feel left behind today? How might God be orchestrating a perfect setup for a comeback only He could author? Wait with Him there. Let hope rise again in the very place that feels forgotten.

Prayer

Lord, when my situation feels impossible or unlikely, and I’m tempted to quit, remind me that You are not finished. Give me fierce hope to hold on—even to the smallest glimmer of Your promise—trusting that You are still working and making all things beautiful.

Amen.