Citizen of Another Culture

"Hope that is sustained with neither certainty nor comfort is rare indeed, because it must be based on something beyond the reach of our senses, and we are sense-defined creatures, every one of us. To have hope of this nature is to have crossed over some kind of line somewhere in our life and become a citizen of another culture altogether."

~ Lancia Smith

Burden of Hope

“We’re called to bear the burden of hope through the wreckage of a broken world.” 

 ~ Aedan Peterson

I'd Really Hoped

Have you heard the turn of phrase, “I’d really hoped that…”? This week was the first time I ever thought about it, because I found myself thinking it in a way that was much more intentional, serious, and literal than it usually flows off my tongue.

Usually, it means we’re disappointed, mildly. This week, it meant that I have hoped - really, emotionally, actively, persistently hoped. I have prayed, and desired, and doubted, and reinforced my hope by praying again. I have had so much real hope that it could happen that I have checked just about anywhere I could think to check, for news that it had occurred.

And so this week, when I think to myself that “I’d really hoped,” it is because I am so disappointed that it takes my breath away thinking about continuing to hope for these things. I am so disappointed that I almost wish I hadn’t hoped. Can you hope too obsessively?

Hope to Receive

One of my good friends tries not to set unreasonable expectations for how an event will go. She’s been burned in the past, and struggled to have a good attitude. We’ve all been there. I mean, even when playing Settlers of Catan and just setting up for the first couple of turns, so often I find that I had expected things to go differently, and now what am I going to do?

Recently, my friend was talking about her plans for the summer, and she hopes that it will accomplish this and that for her family. Internally, I scoffed. It sounded like one of those expectations that is very likely to be unmet. But then I caught myself. Love hopes for good. And these things are deep, significant goods that these people I love do need. And so, it is not bad to hope for them.

But is there a difference, I wondered, between expectations and hope? One of my thoughts was that hope holds hands open. When we hope, we are waiting for a gift, and we recognize that, in many cases, we may not receive it. And when we don’t, we don’t have anything to complain about. Whereas expectations imply a little more about rights, and a little more about control. And again, if we do receive the thing, with hope, it isn’t something where we sniff and say, “about time!” No, we get a chance to rejoice, to feel loved by the Giver and Doer of good things.

So we’re hoping, this summer, and daring even to build plans in alliance with our hopes.

Look Up from the Fray

The battle had raged all night long, a small people under siege, their women and children hidden away under caves behind the fortification, their enemies vicious and overwhelming. The outer dike was breached early. The wall fell well into the night. Only the caves and the fortress tower remained defended. And Aragorn stood above the final gates, looking out over his swarming, untired enemies - and the dawn.

How many times that long night had he wondered where help was? How many times had he and others exchanged reassurances: It isn’t over yet; don’t judge whether the promise failed until we see how this ends. How many times did he lean on his sword and look up at the sky, wondering about Gandalf and eagles and horsemen and other wonders undreamt of that could come to their desperate aid?

There was more to do. Orcs still crawled up the walls and men still threw down their ladders and grappling hooks. A sortie was assembling inside. But hope spends some of its time looking for rescue. Fulfillment may come, and one can’t help looking up from the fray to check if it has arrived.

Perpetual Praise

"I can hope because He has proven 

that He is worthy of 

receiving my hopes 

as a form of perpetual praise."

~ Taylor Dawn Rosequist

People of Hope

We are a people of hope, we Christ-followers.  Love is to be what defines us, and Paul wrote that love hopes all things.  In the past few months I have been overwhelmed with the number of things we are hoping for.

First we are hoping for the return of our Bridegroom, Jesus, the establishment of His kingdom, and the fulfillment of our salvation.  This future is promised and sure, but not realized – often not even observable on its way. Faith is the substance of things hoped for, evidence of things not seen.  So much of what we do until His return is based on what we can’t see. We love the brethren, whom we can see. We hear the Shepherd’s voice and follow Him. Our feasts remember Him and anticipate the wedding feast we will share with Him.  He has left us gifts and we use them. Purity is important in a Bride, so we try to be always ready to meet Him adorned with good works and holy. These are the acts of hope.

Many of us are hoping for the salvation of friends and family.  We labor for it. We petition for it. And we recognize that it is God who brings it about.  This isn’t a detached hope; we are eager, invested, agonizing as we plead for those who are lost in spiritual darkness and death.  The answer to our hope is glorious: redemption and reunion and our Lord’s increased joy.

 In singleness we wait for a spouse and children, in hope.  God has led me to not just bide my time, but to really desire these good gifts.  I can’t acquire the kind of husband I would need to glorify God, by myself. God is abundantly able.  So I wait, dreaming of the day when God brings completion to my hopes and I begin a new life, picturing the new life we Christians will share with Christ when He returns for us.

Others are hoping for God to grow their families by blessing them with conception and healthy births.  They ask God for babies, get excited about names and interactions and discipleship and teaching and growing.  Months too early they begin collecting children’s books and decorating nurseries.

Having kids is an abundant source for more hopes.  Parents hope for their children to grow into men and women who zealously pursue God.  They pray for long, strong lives. When their children stray from the truth, they fervently intercede for their repentance.

We gently and lovingly confront sin, hoping for the offending Christian to be restored to submission to God and fellowship with those of us who walk in the light of His grace and power and leading.

In all sorts of things we pray for what we don’t have, our hope in the good-gift-giving Father who hears all of our requests with love and wisdom.  Sometimes He has told us what to pray for, and our hope should be enthusiastically confident that we have whatever we ask (as it is asked in faith according to His revealed will).  And sometimes we lay our hearts before Him, begging that He will grant our desires or turn them to what pleases Him.

"And hope maketh not ashamed 

because the love of God is shed abroad 

in our hearts by the Holy Ghost 

which is given unto us."

~ Romans 5:5