Hope can be elusive. It’s one thing to talk about it, to assume you have it, but when life comes crashing down around you, it often can’t seem to be found. It’s like it evaporates just when we need it most.
I can’t explain, rationalize, water down, or dismiss it: hope is one of those things that was graciously given to me when I was fresh out. I had nothing to draw on from my own reserves, but when I made the switch from just simply talking about God, to pursuing an experience with Him, well, that’s when everything changed.
I’m not sure why it surprises us when we first come to the realization that our Creator is such a personal Being. Why is it so hard to believe that He wants us to communicate with Him, regularly, and to establish a relationship with Him? I think the deal-breaker for so many comes when He calls them to trust Him completely with not only their lives, but their hearts and their souls as well. It is a traumatic thing to give up our control. In reality, we can actually control very little in this life, yet we have convinced ourselves that we are the masters of our ultimate fate. So handing over the reins on a daily, even hourly, basis rubs us the wrong way.
It is when we come face-to-face with the cold, hard fact of our delusional power that we can choose to acknowledge One who is bigger, wiser, kinder, stronger, and infinitely more deeply loving than we are, and accept His plans for us. As we experience His touch on our lives, mending the broken pieces, we find ourselves pleasantly surprised that we can detect hope once again welling up from the depths. That is how we are able to get to the other side of our misery: with hope, planted by the One who loves us most.