Life can turn dark and ugly because of things that I do, or things people do to me, or just because life becomes undone. These shake the foundation and stability of the world as I know it and my dream of what I want it to be. No matter that it is my own neglect, ignorance or sin, or that people of ill intent accuse or lay in wait for me, or that life-threatening disease or natural calamity invade my world, the result is the same – a nightmarish existence that creates darkness and anguish. What control and power I think I have evaporate and life makes little sense.
Pat answers or simple solutions that I might recite to myself or offer others may be well intended but are usually not helpful and at times offensive. And yet, I believe that in the darkest hour there is hope to which I can cling, with both hands.
With one hand, I cling to the hope that the purposes of God are bigger than what I am facing. Call it providence or whatever you wish, but it is the hope (read: assurance, confidence) that God knows what I am facing, and its horror and darkness are not beyond him or his purposes. My hope is that in his way, in his time he will redeem the situation and me for his purposes.
With the other hand, I cling to the hope of prayer. I pray not as a way of negotiating my way out of darkness, or as a magical incantation that absolves and solves, or as a salve for my hurt. Rather, I pray because that is all I can do. I cry out in the hope that God hears me and will be with me in my anguish, desperation and brokenness. My pleas for peace, wisdom, and hope are confessions that I am at the end of myself and am desperately in need of him.
With both hands, I cling to hope. Prayer makes no sense without the hope of God’s purposes, and it is prayer that ignites within me the hope of seeing those purposes realized.
Dr. Stroope,
This is certainly a post for us! Especially over the last few months. We have learned, and are still learning, how to cling with both hands. We had a conversation about this yesterday too. Thanks for the great reminder.
Emily
Emily,
I am still learning … learning to desperately grasp. I know my darkness and anguish are not as deep and earth-shaking as what others are experiencing, and yet, we are all there in some measure because of death, illness, mean people, etc. I need to be continually reminded because this is part of what life will eventually bring me, and when it does I want to be found hoping.