The Pain of Holding Hope

I have always been a hopeful idealist and these days I feel very conflicted about it. One part of me would passionately defend this hopeful part of me and believes deeply that the beauty of the created order and the design of relational systems is worth pursuing and even fighting for. And there is another part of me that increasingly thinks it’s a waste of time and energy. Silly even. And way, way too costly.

Ever attended a war like this within yourself? Perhaps the very thing you feel most passionate about begins to feel too costly.

I think of God’s instructions for human flourishing. The relational design. Dependent on God and each other for our human needs. Romans 12. All the “one another’s” in scripture. Marriage. Family. Work. The Church. Government. Neighboring. Loving. Sharpening. Giving and receiving in true vulnerability. I love these words, concepts, instructions so very much. I believe in them so deeply. I can catch the vision for how beautiful it is when brothers and sisters live in a unity that Christ makes possible.

I have spent a lot of time seeking to understand this way of life and following Jesus more fully. I have studied the scriptures, spiritual formation, psychology. I have participated in faith communities for 30 years. And truly listened. I have done at least continual work though not completed work to understand and seek repentance and healing in my own heart and story. I have tried to shape my way of living and moving throughout in my personal life, home life, financial life, work life around these things.

It is hard to put into human words how deeply hurt and disappointed I feel by what seems real when you stop to feel and survey what is in you and what is around you. We are so busy. Chronically moving and pushing. We are choosing that and we are not. We are protective of ourselves and defensive of whatever it is that we have found to hold onto for security. Rightness, status, image, power, martyrdom, suffering. Others are injured as we move about desperate but from a place of scarcity. And we see this sweeping through our own personal hearts to governments impacting everything in between. And yet, I am aware that beneath each self-preservation strategy is an insecure, wounded person trying to survive. We are wired for physical and social survival, no matter how spiritual we desire to be. Denial of that fact seems to make the impact of our strategies further and wider.

The impact sometimes looks like seeking to control everything and anything in our worlds, doubling down on our rightness, avoiding accountability, winning in tit for tat surface level disputes and never addressing what’s deeper, comforting ourselves by tearing others down or aloofly writing them off with our judgments, numbing our pain by any number of addictions from social media to infidelity to work, “christian-ing”, food, etc. We withdraw and play small, we attack and get big, we work hard to build amazing things and disappear as a human person with feelings and needs.

It feels like a very dark battle between good and evil. I have trained my eye and ear to listen for what is incomplete, for lies, manipulation, gaslighting, abusive-addictive relational systems. And I see it everywhere. I have felt closer to understanding my deconstructing friends. Closer to giving in to the sweet numbing effect of cynicism and avoidance. I can feel the sensation of the hurt and vulnerable parts of me that want to surrender into building the walls. Look at all the data points that support the narrative that no one is trustworthy or loving or kind or good. We can hardly even lift our eyes up out of our own self-preoccupation to consider another at all. Why do I continue to be a glutton for punishment?

Can you hear it? It is dark. There is a temptation to say to hell with it all. Because why? Because to stay watching for hope, to stay awake to truth, to dare to feel in this world is to take on hefty, even overwhelming waves of hurt. Repeated sadness and loss. Profound loneliness. Fear. Shame and guilt.

And yet…

I won’t say to hell with it. To what end? What would that even look like?

To live numb and asleep doesn’t feel like a good option. As deep as the pain that I feel, I know that God is not only real but present with me. He has been since I was a little girl. I believe to my very depths that his word is true. I think people have mishandled it and weaponized it in every time and culture, and even so it remains true.

As I feel unsure, I will not reach for more information through teachers, podcasts, books, instagram nuggets, echo chambers to validate me instead I will be still, make space to be quiet and remember. I will ask God to re-member me. To gather up all my parts. To remember his promise to keep me from all evil and to help me. And I will remember who he is? How I’ve known him. How he has walked with me. I will remember my humanity and neediness. I will remember that I am the crown of his creation and in Christ a Daughter of God with a good and beautiful mission and purpose to live out. I will remember that the saints in the land are the excellent ones.

Raging at the betrayers and poor leaders wont help. (Oh you can’t imagine how many speeches I’ve given them in my head.) Hardening my heart in resentment to protect myself from more hurt only cuts me off from really living. Putting everyone in their place from a high horse of self-righteousness also ineffective and exhausting. Burying myself and my pain in a hole and all that is lost there. No thanks.

Hope is restored in the presence of Christ. Healing of all kinds is found with Him. Hope is restored in quiet. Stillness. Ordinary. I slow down so that I can see more. I look for beauty. I look for simple things that are good. I express gratitude. Say what I see. I study the Creator and how he made us and what we know about His intentions. I ask what is right about this? What is not missing? I let the tears roll.

Holding hope for myself, my family and friends, community, Christians, country, the world is costly. But it is who I have become. It is who I am. As a follower of Jesus I am a minister of reconciliation, building up, showing the way to healing and the Light. When the darkness closes is, when I can’t pay the price anymore, I go back to my Father. Back to the source.