Hope is Hard

Sometimes hope is hard.

Somehow, in the very fragile state of my life over the past several years, Hope has never completely dissipated. I count this as nothing short of a miracle. I do, however, recall many moments when I fought for Hope in a way that often drained my energy like a warrior in a losing battle.

But, I held on. I clung to Hope. I refused to let go of faith in goodness and love for the present and the future.

And yet, sometimes Hope is hard. If we are honest, sometimes Hope can even fall in the realm of the seemingly impossible.

One of the criticisms I received when I started writing in the midst of the rawness of life was that I needed to exhibit and include a little more hope. I pushed back. Guess what? Sometimes life is a little doom and gloom. Or - a LOT doom and gloom! Guess what else? Sometimes even though Hope is not explicit, that does not mean that Hope is absent. The beauty of Hope is that it’s small glimmer coexists quite naturally with the doom and gloom that life sometimes brings.

I remember a day a few years ago when I suddenly sat in the realization that I was no longer fighting for Hope. I hadn’t really conquered anything I could articulate. My circumstances hadn’t changed. My problems were not all solved with evidence of my dreams coming to pass. But- the battle within was no longer raging. Hope was just there, sitting with me like an old friend. There was no striving or trying, but rather a simple and gentle presence within and around me.

Most times, with much gratitude I can say that even when life has been nearly unbearable, I have still been able to sit in this hope. But the reality is that Hope is hard and sometimes Hope feels as if it is under constant attack.

I was captured by the words of a song recently that says that “Hope is frail.” When something is frail, it is delicate, fragile, easily damaged.

Hope often brings up images of beauty and peace. And this is true- Hope is beautiful and peaceful.

Hope also hurts. The battle for Hope can be sleepless nights and lonely days and bleeding and bruising and scars. Clamoring for Hope may be walking around in the darkness or being desperate for just a small sip of water to nurture a dry soul.

The lyrics of the song go on to say that Hope is hard to kill.

Hope is frail.

But Hope is hard to kill.

The warrior of Hope may be brought to its knees, beat down and battered, but Hope is hard to kill. Hope will grasp for breath and spring back to life, even stronger than before.

Hope is not fleeting and it cannot be killed, no matter how great the enemy or how strong the wind may blow. Hope cannot be swept away by storms or currents or drought.

Hope is water in the wilderness.

Hope is a spring in the desert. A candle in the window. A seed breaking through the ground.

Waking up and breathing is Hope.

Hope is in the laughter of a child.

Hope is the night giving way to the day.

Hope is a small light in the darkness.

I sense this. I believe it and know it. Whatever life is throwing at you right now, I hope you will believe it too. If you are still breathing, it’s not over. There is more.