Some time ago I heard someone say "Who said this was never going to come up again"? Its true – who ever told us that life is all roses? And who told us once you've "dealt" with something that it will never arise again? Who told us that seasons are seasons and just to ride the wave? Who has sold us the story that if we follow God, everything will be okay? Bollics.
I find when we believe these clich̩'s it can rock our world even more. We become vulnerable to all the life flying around and are left questioningР"I thought they said it wasn't going to be like this..."
I guess I'm old enough now to realise that it doesn't always work out the way we think. We will get rocked, shaken and hurt and unfortunately, it will happen again. I am a person, in the midst of this season in my life, I'm rediscovering what it means to have "hope" and have "hope" a young person.
The intrinsic nature of hope
What should I Hope for? A long life like many of the oldies I see around me? Why would I hope? Will my life be any different in essence to theirs? What is Hope? How will I cope when my parents get very old and frail? These are very grave questions with the brutality of life all around me.
A friend once said to me "Hope gets me up in the morning, but it doesn't soften the blow". I think far too often we get Hope mixed up for something it isn't. I don't know how many times I have hoped for a change in situation, hoped for a miracle or even hoped that I could go back in time and change the way I have done things. Unfortunately hope is not my personal genie that I rub to make me life a painted rainbow, but hope can keep me going.
Listening in Church over the last few years has me in some sense believing that if I just keep hoping in God, hoping in his 'will' - everything around me will fade away and my life's curve balls will stop flying. I don't understand how I could be so naive because this will never be the case.
Yes, I believe God can work miracles and transform lives, but quite often finding hope amongst life's trials is the real challenge, especially when there is no 'miracle moment' to be seen.
Hope the all cure?
Some time ago I wrote on a similar there that having worked in an organisation where young women have viewed life as a formality they want to skip, to them it seems, there is no hope. They have spent a life turning to alcohol, drugs, abuse, self-harm and suicide to numb the pain. The numbness has become their personal hope as they spend time distracting themselves for the hopelessness around them. Confronted with these young women's stories I have been humbled as I have watched them recover hope.
It's reflecting on these young women's stories that I find truth in my friend's statement. I can't place my hope in God because He promises life will ultimately be perfect, but I can hope in a new day, it is this kind of hope that will get me up in the morning. I've discovered since that if I only hope in a magic genie I could be left wanting. His hope can bring miracles, but it does not promise to deliver what we want all the time.
After spending time with these distraught young women, I have learnt that for them – their hope doesn't mask the pain but finds a way to get them up in the morning. They see hope in a clock – it keeps ticking, life keeps rolling, there will always be a sunrise and sunset. The regularity and continuity of life is a comforting thought, no day will ever be the same but we can be sure that there will be another. One of the biggest achievements hope can attain is the will to continue doing life.
Hope is real
Now, in the midst of turmoil I am able to redefine my personal meaning of hope. I've noticed a shift. I've stopped sitting, waiting, wishing and lifted my gaze. I've shifted my focus. Instead of the usual "Get me outta here" prayer I've searched for the hope amongst it all.
A friend (yes another one, I have great friends...) said to me, "Chloe, you need to stop and smell the roses". And again, it's true. When we give every single part of ourselves into our curve balls we can lose sight of even the simplest piece of hope.
It can sometimes be as simple as the ray of sunshine in my window. Sometimes it can be to shift our eyes off our lives and be grateful for what we do have. And sometimes it isn't. Sometimes it is the blessing of getting up in the morning and continuing with life. Sometimes it's the ability to stop and smell the roses I've forgotten about.
There is Hope that God is not done with me. There is hope that despite my everyday failings and ongoing angst – he still wants me. There is Hope that he doesn't look at the stains in my life and say this is erasable. There is Hope that when even faced with the bleakest of situations I know that this too shall pass. Hope never promises to soften the blow of a situation but sometimes, if we let it, it can lift our gaze and we can take a moment to stop and smell the roses.
Hope can get me up in the morning and support my family, but I do not expect it to be my get out of jail free card.
Chloe Pryor is a young adult living in Auckland New Zealand. Studying a Bachelor of Dance, in her spare time she teaches young children dance, ballet and jazz, whilst volunteering hours in the youth ministry of her local church. Chloe has a passion for God and serving the local church with a defined heart for women.
Chloe Pryor's previous articles may be viewed at www.pressserviceinternational.org/chloe-pryor.html