And hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us
Romans 5:5

 

There are days when hope is hard.
Not just a little hard, but really, really, hard.
Today is one of those days for me.
So I need this verse.
I need some hope.
Remember, from previous uplifts, that hope means “the expectation of good.”
That we expect good things to come.
I don’t know about you, but I need some of that today.
And I need the reminder that hope isn’t the same thing as being ok,
or being happy
or having our act together.
Hope isn’t even believing things will be better tomorrow,
or the next day,
or even the next.
Hope is believing that whatever is going on,
It can be redeemed.
It will be made new.
It will get better.
This is frustrating for us fixers.
When we want to make things better for those around us.
It’s frustrating for those of us who are struggling, because we WANT to believe that things will get better but it just doesn’t FEEL like they ever will.
But this is when hope is the most important.
The most needed.
You know how sometimes, when you are in the dark, your eyes find the tiniest amount of light there and use it to see?
That’s hope.
Hope is the tiniest spark, the smallest glimmer of light in the darkness.
It’s there.
I promise it’s there.
And it can light up the darkest dark,
the saddest sad,
the scariest fear,
the worst life has to offer…
Hope is there.
The Apostle Paul says that hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts… it’s already there.
It has already been given to us.
Love wins.
Love doesn’t always win the day.
It doesn’t always win the week,
But it always wins in the end.
That is what we hope in and for.
And hope does not let us down.  

There’s a poem I love, the first one I ever learned from memory, by Emily Dickinson, called “Hope is the thing with feathers” that fits today perfectly.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –
And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –
I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.

Hope doesn’t ask a thing of us.
It’s just there.
Singing without stopping.
Keeping us warm.
Reminding us that love will win.
We’re going to be ok you guys.
We’ve got this.