the Lord delights in those who fear him, who put their hope in his unfailing love.
Psalm 147:11
How do you write about hope and also write what’s true?
It’s easy to lie about hope (even if it’s just lies of omission).
It’s easy to say
“Hoping the best thing you can do.”
“It’s such a gift.”
“Don’t give up—you’re almost there.”
“God is faithful to come through for you.”
“It’s going to be okay in the end.”
without talking about the other part of hope:
that it feels like going to war.
Because if you’ve ever hoped for something—like really, truly, on your knees begging that God or the universe or fate or whoever runs this will be on your side because you just couldn’t handle what would happen if not—you know that hope can feel like Hell.
It’s not a cutesy greeting card emotion. It’s not easy or naive or simple or immature.
It’s not about forgetting your worries or noticing sunshine or believing for the best. It’s so much deeper than that.
It’s not safe. It’s incredibly risky. It might result in more pain than you thought you could handle.
If you want a mirage of safety, lose all hope. You can’t ever be disappointed when you’re hopeless.
Hoping is one of the hardest things you can do.
Yet, there’s something in our bones that tells us it’s how we were meant to live.
Everything beautiful is born out of hope.
Friendships, paintings, rocketships, beach days, marriages, good food, movies, babies, latte art, gold medals, reconciliation, skyscrapers, healing, homes.
Hopelessness has never created beauty a day in its life. It’s only led to destruction. It fights to destroy everything good and true and beautiful (including us).
It’s no wonder hope hurts so bad. I’ve never heard of a soldier who returned from war and said, “That was such a gift. I can’t wait to do it again.”
Sometimes, we’re not ready to hope. And that’s okay. Hope—like healing—is a process. Hope is also generous. Sometimes other people’s hope is enough to keep us going, too.
A few days ago, my cousin Danielle sent me an original song about the cruelty of the world. (I wish you could all hear it.) It didn’t necessarily end in an uplifting way or have some positive message encoded in it. But it was moving and it gave me hope.
She said the song came out of a time when she was a teenager and saw the world's harshness up close. She didn’t understand “how you just keep going with life” and how “everyone pretends like everything is okay constantly to keep their own peace because we’re all just grieving constantly.” She ended with, “But so few of us will just do it together.”
Acknowledging our pain and grieving together is a source of hope.
Whispers of hope—even small ones—matter. They are battle strategies against destruction.
Our acts of hope push back darkness and put in its place beauty, goodness, and full life. Hope multiplies and creates more of itself.
When all we see is cruelty and confusion, hope is the only thing we have. It’s our only chance at beauty and fullness.
It’s a fight I’m willing to bet my life on.
Hope is a weapon. And the battle is a worthy one.
Book Progress
Speaking of hope, I’ve decided to hold myself to a big goal.
My goal is to have the first draft of the entire book done by January 31.
And once I complete my first draft (because all true motivation needs an incentive), I’m going to finally be able to share what the book is about!
I’ve been dying to share more about the book, so this little incentive will (hopefully) give me the push I need to finish all of my initial writing in the next seven weeks.
Here are my stats as of now:
4/8 chapters mostly finished
14,167 words
68 pages (not counting the 47 pages of random notes I still need to add in)
Five Faves
The Shift - a new sci-fi movie about hope/hopelessness and spiritual warfare (in theaters now). I don’t want to spoil it more than that, but it definitely moved me.
This pumpkin baked oatmeal recipe. My friend Karissa shared it last year and we’ve been making it ever since! (I know, a little late for pumpkin stuff, but still delicious.) It’s perfect for meal-prepping a quick breakfast.
Embracing the slowness of the Christmas season instead of feeling pressure to do everything.
This song mashup.
These headbands - like the ones we wore in sixth grade. They’re back, baby. (Sorry guys, this one’s for the ladies.) Honestly, I’m not really sure if they’re backk back. I just saw one influencer wearing one and got inspired. Maybe I can inspire you and we can start a chain reaction to bring them back back.
This week, keep hoping. If you feel too weak, ask someone to hope for you. If there’s any battle worth fighting, it’s this one. (If you need someone to hope for you, respond with a quick message (just “Can you pray for me?” will do) and I’ll help fight for you this week.)
Sarah