Recovering Hope
For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. ––1 Corinthians 13:12-13
Hope can be both powerfully strong and incredibly delicate. When we have hope, the future is bright; when we lack it, thinking about “what’s next” can be overwhelming, stressful, and just plain sad.
I have gone through times in my life where I struggled with hope, and here’s why: This fallen world we live in constantly reminds us just how dangerous it is to have hope in people, places, things. Hope is precarious, and can come at a high price. In order for us to wrap our arms around this concept, here’s a brief compare-and-contrast between godly hope and worldly hope:
In the world, hope is:
Transient – It comes and goes, depending upon our outward circumstances
Temporary – When we pin our hopes to people and things, it simply can’t be trusted. We never know when things will change.
Transactional – Worldly hope is based upon what we have to offer, and its worth hinges upon what others can do for us, and vice versa.
In the Kingdom, hope is:
Consistent – Because God’s love is unchanging.
Eternal – Our hope is a Person, and He is everlasting (Lamentations 3:21-23)
Relational – His love is unconditional, therefore we can anchor ourselves to Him in intimate relationship.
We’ve all heard today’s verse about faith, hope, and love, with Jesus telling us that the greatest of these is love. It’s easy to bypass the “faith and hope” parts and just focus on love, but that’s not Jesus’ intent. This is a spiritual triplet—a progression from one to another. When we receive faith (because that is what it is—a gift received), we are given new hope; an entirely different way of thinking that transforms the way we see the world. Undergirding both faith and hope, however, is His love. It is the fuel that sustains our faith and gives us hope.
In hard times, hope seems like an expensive commodity that we just can’t afford. What if we choose to hope but then things don’t work out? It’s a risk, isn’t it? I get it. I’ve been there. What I can tell you is that when we remember His love and dwell on the gift of our faith, hope becomes something more muscular and durable—that’s because ultimately, it’s not based on emotion or circumstances, but on a beloved King who has already secured our future.
Hope is a choice—sometimes a difficult one. It gets easier, however, when we remind ourselves that for God’s man, choosing hope is choosing Him.
Father, sometimes hope is a difficult choice—help me to place my hope first in You, and then surrender my difficulties and roadblocks. I’m so thankful that my hope is both eternal and dependable.