Hope

I used to believe that once I learned something, I had it.  That the acquisition of knowledge or some specific skill, once taken into my mind & body, would somehow remain there indefinitely…ever ready thereafter to be called upon to inform my intellect or empower my actions.  What I’ve come to reluctantly realize, along with many others, is the truth that my psyche and ability have holes in them.  Stuff gets lost all the time.

As a petulant and somewhat proud young man watching my father mature many years ago, I just thought there were deficiencies about him when he forgot stuff or couldn’t do what he used to do.  You know how we do that to our parents, right?  “I’m not going to be like that,” we confidently predict.  I started realizing the immaturity of that position when I was in my late-thirties.  I was deep in my career, married with two little terrors, trying to make my way in a confusing & challenging world.  The relentless stress was much more than I had anticipated.  I began noticing that the veneers that lay over my ego started melting away due to forgetfulness, a layer of fat around my midsection, and a crisis of confidence.  It was around that time that dad and I started getting much closer as friends and confidants. It’s funny how life has a way of teaching us humility.

What I mean by “crisis of confidence” is not that I lost my hope, but that my limited version of “hope” started getting cracks in it.  As a follower of Jesus, I was deeply comforted by the eternal hope I have for the afterlife because of my connection with Him.  I also had a lot of hopes for my earthly future that were based on pictures in my mind that I had adopted from the world around me…things, relationships, and experiences I wished for and asked God for.  Some of these hopes were more noble than others: 
“I want to be a good husband and father”
“I want to be well liked and successful”
“I want to have good friends”
“I want to be healthy and athletic”
“I want to have a nice looking yard”
 “I want to be close to God”

Interesting that all of those start with “I want.”  As I matured during this season, I began to realize that my hopes required work.  They weren’t free, like salvation in Christ is free.  He is pleased to give us the Kingdom, and to fulfill our desires with good things…but they are not cheap.  When I ask God to bless my future with a hope that I have, He always give me challenges in order to obtain it.  The way I handle those challenges determines the outcome…not of my ultimate hope, but the individual one.  I also learned during this phase that I no longer had enough time to invest in all of my hopes simultaneously in order to experience their fruition all at once….so there was always something that wasn’t living-up to the picture in my mind.  In those times, I had to be content with that aspect of hope that involves waiting.  I began to see glimpses of a hope that is not connected with my circumstances and abilities.

The Biblical word for “hope” can also be translated as “expectation, trust, confidence.”  It’s not some elusive, childish dream that’s meant to put pretty pictures of our preferred self just beyond our reach…urging us to strain to better ourselves.  It’s the realistic result of the practical, real and daily efforts we put into trusting that God’s way is right…and that He can be trusted with the results, whether they look like our vision or not.  I haven’t experienced anything truly good in my life by wishing that I would; but by praying, working, investing, and trusting my way into whatever outcome He has for me.  It’s not really about my projected destination; it’s about the Hand I’m holding, and trusting Him to lead me.  Whenever I stray off that path, hope eludes me and dreams crumble.  When I repent, redirect my affections toward Him, and turn my aspirations toward the goals that line-up with Him, hope wells up in me anew.

So,to me, hope is not a lazy wish-upon-a-star; it’s a heat-seeking missile.