As Christians, our hope is in Him. In the story He has written for us, especially in His ending. His hope is an anchor for our soul. And yet oftentimes in the times of struggle and darkness, hope can feel elusive, daunting, and maybe even sometimes like it will never come to light for us.
Hope sometimes is flung around as a weapon, a badge, and a reprieve. It is a word used to inspire others but oftentimes comes with a significant catch. The catch is that it oftentimes only comes attached to the stories that worked out, got the ending we all want, or are considered successful.
When hope is the message of these happy-ending stories, it can feel like a weapon being discharged on our soul for those of us who it did not work out for, the ones who have had to redefine our own happy ending but the ending that many do not be consider the happy one.
So are we out of hope?
In the least, it can at times feel like we are invisible.
If you don’t know my story by now: tried to be a mom, paid a lot of money to be a mom, it did not work and we live a childfree, not by choice, life.
I came to my faith after our infertility journey ended in the worst-case scenario, without children. No easy task, I often share as part of my faith testimony that I am a mental health therapist who can’t have babies. There is not much more needed than that to be pretty mad at God.
My story is sad. It makes people sad and makes them really want to take away my pain by offering a not-so-simple solution, such as "why don't you just adopt?"
Stories like mine do not go viral, they do not get shared, and sometimes hardly acknowledged by our society.
Perhaps, just like your story of addiction, abuse, loss, trauma, illness, etc., this list could go on and on.
Because we don't think there is hope in not getting what we dreamed of; and we only want to read, hear, and feel the stories full of happy hope. And yet every single day there is hope in my life; hope in many different things and people, and it was only found in letting my old definition of hope die.
When hope grows up, we refuse to be invisible, especially because we are always seen by our Jesus.