Breathe A Living Hope
The Outcomes Of A Living Hope Never Change
by Eric Elkin
Hope has a singular definition for me in these days after Easter. No, my hope right now is not in the resurrection of the dead. To me, the resurrection is an expected outcome. My immediate sense of hope is something more pressing. I hope the snow will be gone by the end of April.
We tasted real spring weather on Saturday. It was sunny and 60 degrees. We ate dinner on the porch and walked through the garden and looked at flowers. It does not seem demanding nor delusional to expect spring. This is Minnesota, spring snows are as frequent as the rising sun. However, spring snows rarely come with four days of bitter cold.
As I think about it, the first sentence in this reflection is a lie. My definition of hope is not limited to the departure of snow. I am also hopeful about many things taking place in our country right now. Challenges, even ones with dire consequences, often bring out the best in people.
Last night, I spoke to a couple about their upcoming wedding. They told me how they were coping with the COVID-19 shelter-in orders. On the weekends, they are purchasing groceries and delivering them for people who cannot do it for themselves. Hearing this breathed a living hope into my heart.
Our congregation is reaching out and connecting to people in ways we would never have considered without a crisis. Each day I get phone calls from members wanting to help someone in need. The joy we experience whenever we "see" each other on Zoom is unbelievable. All of these things breathe a living hope into my heart.
Carol Farran, an expert in eldercare, discovered the power of hope while studying residents in a nursing home. She started by exploring the reasons why some elderly people thrive and others whither when faced with adversity and isolation. What she discovered was the difference between the two groups of people was hope.
In an article on hope and survival, Farran clarified her definition of hope. It was not some blind sense of optimism, nor one with a rigid outcome. Hope cannot be static for it to give the believer any sense of resiliency or life. She found real hope is dynamic, living, and able to adapt.
In the article, she was quoted as saying, "The hopeful person looks at reality, and then arrives at solutions. If a hoped-for outcome became impossible, the hopeful person would find something else to hope for."
It's funny, for us who are believing, the source of our hope is static. Christ is "imperishable, undefiled, and unfading." However, the conditions surrounding this hope are always changing. Our hope becomes a living hope precisely because, no matter what we do, the outcome does not change. It never becomes impossible.
My heart is filled with joy because I know the snow will go away, and summer will come. I am confident that researchers will discover a vaccine for COVID-19. My heart breathes with a living hope because I am seeing so much good in the world right now. If you are feeling as though you are giving into despair, please consider taking a deep breath of living hope. It will help you survive and thrive.
Click to read 1 Peter 1: 3-9
Reflection Questions:
What do you hope for today?
How much of your hope has a defined, rigid outcome?
When have you adapted your sense of hope because the outcome became impossible?
How does an “imperishable, undefiled, and unfading” outcome make your hope more resilient?