One benefit of being a young professional who lives alone is that I have a lot of time to think. I mean, really sit and process and ask questions about bigger things than just "what's for dinner?" Don't get me wrong -- I have hobbies, but sometimes an idea just comes to me that requires a bit more pondering. Here are the questions I'm wrestling with this week:
Where does hope come from? How does hope interact with faith? And where is love in all of this?
When people talk about hope, often it's in a positive way. We sometimes use it as a synonym for faith, but I think the two are different. Hebrews 11:1 tells us that, "FAITH is confidence in what we HOPE for and assurance about what we do not see." So, hope has to come before faith otherwise faith would be directionless, but where does it come from? And, is it possible for hope to be a bad thing? Like, what about when people say, "Oh, don't get your hopes up" or "we were overly hopeful that would turn out differently." Usually, this means any kind of investment here may be a bad choice, but was the hope itself bad or just the placement of it?
I'm kind of wondering out loud, but here's why I want to know: is it worth paying attention to what we hope for? Or is hope basically just another emotion that is prone to directing us when we should be re-directing it?
I recently read Katie Davis Major's book "Daring to Hope," which is a phenomenal read in general, but especially for those of us who've been around the block a time or two with really hard life circumstances. In it, she asks God why He allowed her to hope so deeply and so certainly in the healing of some friends who later died, or in a better outcome of a circumstance that just didn't go her way. She argues that if God already knew the outcome, why let her waste the energy in genuinely believing for a better ending? Why didn't He just tell her no OR fix the problem? Can we really call God good if He knows there's pain coming and doesn't stop it? Isn't that just mean?
Can you relate? Sometimes it feels un-Christian to ask such hard questions, but I'll assure you, God can handle it. He's handled some pretty tough questions...
Maybe you've prayed for something repeatedly or even told God you've found a solution to a problem and you'd just like Him to bless it forward (please, thank you, and glory be!). Been there. Kinda there right now. It's really hard to be in a place where you can't control an outcome, but your hope or desire for how it turns out is deeply biased toward one outcome. It can be really tempting to just stop -- stop hoping, stop praying, stop thinking about all of it and just throw the idea away or get mad and redirect your attention elsewhere and pretend it doesn't bother you. Because if we aren't careful, hope can quickly turn into a "need" and if we can justify that we "need" it, feelings of being overwhelmed show up because our need isn't met, and then desperation sets in, and with it comes an angry pack of "me me me" choices that we make to justify our "need." And sometimes, no matter how much we "need" it, the answer is just no: closed door, job loss, continued illness, no more money, "sorry, Charlie," try again tomorrow. And something in your heart just feels sick.
Proverbs 13:12 says, "Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life."
So, if you're anything like me, and hope has sometimes lead to more hurt than help, perhaps you find that whenever you are hoping for a positive outcome, you are also wrestling with a cynical "Yeah, right" attitude. It's a sign that our hearts have grown sick in the waiting, praying, and hoping. Doubt is always an easy way out. In a situation where the odds are against you, the easy way out is to roll over and play dead.
But even then, in the quiet moments, once the initial frustration dies away and I see my selfishness for what it is, there's still hope in my heart for a better outcome. Where is it coming from!? I'm both amused and confused by it's consistency. The logical part of my brain screams, "Dude! Haven't you figured it out yet!? Never gonna happen! Look at the odds, girl!" And yet, this still, small voice whispers, "Be brave. Keep praying. It's not over til it's over and even then, remember Lazarus, Abraham and Sarah, Noah, and Ruth. God could surely do it."
1 Corinthians 13:7 tells us that "Love always protects, always hopes, always trusts, always perseveres."
Therefore, we can learn that hope must be a product of love but likely a precursor to faith. Love has to come from God because it is also His name. But then why does "hope deferred make the heart sick" if hope is a link between faith and love?
My best guess is that this is the point where our human hearts/desires/logic kick in and take some control. The longer I follow Jesus, the more I see how tricky it can be to balance what the Word says is good, right, and true, against what I think is right or good. As I mentioned in a previous post, we live in a time of "already but not yet." This applies to our inner self as much as the external reality that Jesus is coming back. In my heart, I know what God wants: trust, patience, wisdom, gentleness, etc. But I also still have my own agenda and I still make mistakes that don't honor God. Try as I might, after 18 years of being a Christian, I just can't seem to wipe out my own plans for my life. But I don't really think God wants us to give up everything we care about and become a robot. The desires in our hearts are there for a reason.
The content of our hearts tells us a few really insightful things about ourselves:
1) What we value -- what is our ultimate goal? What's second place in our hearts?
2) Where God has given us passions, dreams, and ideas
3) How we solve problems or who we look to for solutions
4) Who we trust (self, God, others, etc) as an ultimate authority
All 4 of those have the option to be God-centered or self-centered, which helps me know why sometimes hope is not helpful: it must have been ill-placed. I may value living a wise Christ-centered life, but if I'm solving problems 100% on my own, I'm likely to experience a disconnect between what I want and what I get. Likewise, if I say I trust God more than myself but I only spend time talking to other people and valuing their opinions more than God's voice, I set myself up for hope deferred. Because we are both fully human, but have spiritual souls, we can experience faith and hope AND doubt and disappointment.
Is it cruel of God to allow us to hope in things that will never happen? I would argue no. Situationally, sure, there's probably some legitimate pain that could be avoided, but couldn't the same be said about learning to ride a bike? Pain is part of life -- some of us just get more than others. Can God prevent pain? Yep... but like any good parent, we know that wrapping people in bubble wrap is not conducive to a life well-lived or to any kind of genuine closeness. As it pertains to hope, this book taught me a lot about the value of experiencing hope deferred or pain in the presence of Jesus. Some of the sweetest moments I have had with Jesus have happened on the darkest days because I had no where else to run, but He was there. That kind of sweet communion with Jesus just cannot be fabricated any other way. I know Jesus better because of the "no" He gave me in 2009 in college, the "not yet" in 2010, the "no" to a couple of boys, and in the silence before He answers prayers. Friends, I don't want you to experience a ton of pain... but when you do, know He is right there.
Here's the bottom line: I know I want to display a life of faith in Jesus. When it's all said and done and I'm finally home with Jesus, I want my legacy to reflect a crazy amount of trust in a God I could not see but could not live without and in a Love that can't be contained, but that belongs in the center of who I am. Faith requires hope, but I've put my hope in some poor places before. Or worse, sometimes I put 60% of my hope in my own ability to do something and only 40% in God's sovereignty. We are our own worst enemies sometimes. But my mistakes don't keep me from hoping in better outcomes in the future. Quite the opposite actually -- I now pray even bigger prayers than before and trust more than I ever have because if the alternative is to be cynical, critical, and bitter, well, honey -- the world's got quite enough of that already.
But even if life doesn't go my way, even if the greatest desires of my heart are never fulfilled and God says no to every prayer request from now on, I've learned one thing: hope is a gift of grace. Why? Because it keeps us moving forward and consistently challenges me to see God's plan as better than my own. Katie Davis Majors argues that God allows us to hope because regardless of the outcome, a heart that's truly pursuing God will find closeness and a greater intimacy with God in both His yes and in His no -- and that, friends, is grace. We don't deserve God's presence (Romans 3:23, 6:23) but He meets us in both the good times and the really bad. And ultimately, this life is just a breath -- a fleeting vapor -- in eternity. My hope extends far beyond today's circumstances because I have the promise of eternity because of faith in Jesus. In 100 years, when I'm nothing but ashes and a memory, my hope will still be alive because it is anchored in Jesus' unfailing love. How about you?
Where does hope come from? How does hope interact with faith? And where is love in all of this?
When people talk about hope, often it's in a positive way. We sometimes use it as a synonym for faith, but I think the two are different. Hebrews 11:1 tells us that, "FAITH is confidence in what we HOPE for and assurance about what we do not see." So, hope has to come before faith otherwise faith would be directionless, but where does it come from? And, is it possible for hope to be a bad thing? Like, what about when people say, "Oh, don't get your hopes up" or "we were overly hopeful that would turn out differently." Usually, this means any kind of investment here may be a bad choice, but was the hope itself bad or just the placement of it?
I'm kind of wondering out loud, but here's why I want to know: is it worth paying attention to what we hope for? Or is hope basically just another emotion that is prone to directing us when we should be re-directing it?
I recently read Katie Davis Major's book "Daring to Hope," which is a phenomenal read in general, but especially for those of us who've been around the block a time or two with really hard life circumstances. In it, she asks God why He allowed her to hope so deeply and so certainly in the healing of some friends who later died, or in a better outcome of a circumstance that just didn't go her way. She argues that if God already knew the outcome, why let her waste the energy in genuinely believing for a better ending? Why didn't He just tell her no OR fix the problem? Can we really call God good if He knows there's pain coming and doesn't stop it? Isn't that just mean?
Can you relate? Sometimes it feels un-Christian to ask such hard questions, but I'll assure you, God can handle it. He's handled some pretty tough questions...
Maybe you've prayed for something repeatedly or even told God you've found a solution to a problem and you'd just like Him to bless it forward (please, thank you, and glory be!). Been there. Kinda there right now. It's really hard to be in a place where you can't control an outcome, but your hope or desire for how it turns out is deeply biased toward one outcome. It can be really tempting to just stop -- stop hoping, stop praying, stop thinking about all of it and just throw the idea away or get mad and redirect your attention elsewhere and pretend it doesn't bother you. Because if we aren't careful, hope can quickly turn into a "need" and if we can justify that we "need" it, feelings of being overwhelmed show up because our need isn't met, and then desperation sets in, and with it comes an angry pack of "me me me" choices that we make to justify our "need." And sometimes, no matter how much we "need" it, the answer is just no: closed door, job loss, continued illness, no more money, "sorry, Charlie," try again tomorrow. And something in your heart just feels sick.
Proverbs 13:12 says, "Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life."
So, if you're anything like me, and hope has sometimes lead to more hurt than help, perhaps you find that whenever you are hoping for a positive outcome, you are also wrestling with a cynical "Yeah, right" attitude. It's a sign that our hearts have grown sick in the waiting, praying, and hoping. Doubt is always an easy way out. In a situation where the odds are against you, the easy way out is to roll over and play dead.
But even then, in the quiet moments, once the initial frustration dies away and I see my selfishness for what it is, there's still hope in my heart for a better outcome. Where is it coming from!? I'm both amused and confused by it's consistency. The logical part of my brain screams, "Dude! Haven't you figured it out yet!? Never gonna happen! Look at the odds, girl!" And yet, this still, small voice whispers, "Be brave. Keep praying. It's not over til it's over and even then, remember Lazarus, Abraham and Sarah, Noah, and Ruth. God could surely do it."
1 Corinthians 13:7 tells us that "Love always protects, always hopes, always trusts, always perseveres."
Therefore, we can learn that hope must be a product of love but likely a precursor to faith. Love has to come from God because it is also His name. But then why does "hope deferred make the heart sick" if hope is a link between faith and love?
My best guess is that this is the point where our human hearts/desires/logic kick in and take some control. The longer I follow Jesus, the more I see how tricky it can be to balance what the Word says is good, right, and true, against what I think is right or good. As I mentioned in a previous post, we live in a time of "already but not yet." This applies to our inner self as much as the external reality that Jesus is coming back. In my heart, I know what God wants: trust, patience, wisdom, gentleness, etc. But I also still have my own agenda and I still make mistakes that don't honor God. Try as I might, after 18 years of being a Christian, I just can't seem to wipe out my own plans for my life. But I don't really think God wants us to give up everything we care about and become a robot. The desires in our hearts are there for a reason.
The content of our hearts tells us a few really insightful things about ourselves:
1) What we value -- what is our ultimate goal? What's second place in our hearts?
2) Where God has given us passions, dreams, and ideas
3) How we solve problems or who we look to for solutions
4) Who we trust (self, God, others, etc) as an ultimate authority
All 4 of those have the option to be God-centered or self-centered, which helps me know why sometimes hope is not helpful: it must have been ill-placed. I may value living a wise Christ-centered life, but if I'm solving problems 100% on my own, I'm likely to experience a disconnect between what I want and what I get. Likewise, if I say I trust God more than myself but I only spend time talking to other people and valuing their opinions more than God's voice, I set myself up for hope deferred. Because we are both fully human, but have spiritual souls, we can experience faith and hope AND doubt and disappointment.
Is it cruel of God to allow us to hope in things that will never happen? I would argue no. Situationally, sure, there's probably some legitimate pain that could be avoided, but couldn't the same be said about learning to ride a bike? Pain is part of life -- some of us just get more than others. Can God prevent pain? Yep... but like any good parent, we know that wrapping people in bubble wrap is not conducive to a life well-lived or to any kind of genuine closeness. As it pertains to hope, this book taught me a lot about the value of experiencing hope deferred or pain in the presence of Jesus. Some of the sweetest moments I have had with Jesus have happened on the darkest days because I had no where else to run, but He was there. That kind of sweet communion with Jesus just cannot be fabricated any other way. I know Jesus better because of the "no" He gave me in 2009 in college, the "not yet" in 2010, the "no" to a couple of boys, and in the silence before He answers prayers. Friends, I don't want you to experience a ton of pain... but when you do, know He is right there.
Here's the bottom line: I know I want to display a life of faith in Jesus. When it's all said and done and I'm finally home with Jesus, I want my legacy to reflect a crazy amount of trust in a God I could not see but could not live without and in a Love that can't be contained, but that belongs in the center of who I am. Faith requires hope, but I've put my hope in some poor places before. Or worse, sometimes I put 60% of my hope in my own ability to do something and only 40% in God's sovereignty. We are our own worst enemies sometimes. But my mistakes don't keep me from hoping in better outcomes in the future. Quite the opposite actually -- I now pray even bigger prayers than before and trust more than I ever have because if the alternative is to be cynical, critical, and bitter, well, honey -- the world's got quite enough of that already.
But even if life doesn't go my way, even if the greatest desires of my heart are never fulfilled and God says no to every prayer request from now on, I've learned one thing: hope is a gift of grace. Why? Because it keeps us moving forward and consistently challenges me to see God's plan as better than my own. Katie Davis Majors argues that God allows us to hope because regardless of the outcome, a heart that's truly pursuing God will find closeness and a greater intimacy with God in both His yes and in His no -- and that, friends, is grace. We don't deserve God's presence (Romans 3:23, 6:23) but He meets us in both the good times and the really bad. And ultimately, this life is just a breath -- a fleeting vapor -- in eternity. My hope extends far beyond today's circumstances because I have the promise of eternity because of faith in Jesus. In 100 years, when I'm nothing but ashes and a memory, my hope will still be alive because it is anchored in Jesus' unfailing love. How about you?
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