Hope

“It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”
1 Co 13:7

“My son doesn’t seem to care about anything and is so unappreciative to those who try to help him,” a gentleman said to me during lunch after our church service. His son is thirty-one years old, yet doesn’t seem to know how to take care of himself and is relying on his parents for support. “He has no job and is not looking for one,” the man added.

“Don’t lose hope,” I said to him, trying to console him by quoting the verse I have cited for this devotional. “Being able to love is a privilege and, as long as we continue to love, there is still hope,” I continued, trying to say something positive to him.

“Well, I have got to go,” the man seemed to be anxious to leave before our conversation ended, and what I had to say didn’t seem to be making any impact. I think he was feeling quite hopeless about the whole thing, and had very little desire to elaborate any further on his son’s situation.

How can we hold onto hope when there seems very little to be hopeful for? There are so many occasions in life when we are tempted to give up all hope and to lead our lives in utter despair.

Nothing is more cruel and final than death, yet in Jesus we do have hope since he rose again from the dead and those of us who follow Jesus have the same hope as well. Unless there is the hope of resurrection, hope will die with us all and will not outlast our earthly days.

“We still have hope,” I said to a middle aged man who was about to lose his wife to a terminal illness. I drew a blank stare from him, because, even though he was a Christian, the idea of resurrection had yet to sink into his heart and, in the face of death, he appeared to be quite hopeless.

Who has the courage to love if there is no resurrection? I ponder. If love is only confined to this world and nothing more, lovers are the most to be pitied since the more they love, the deeper their hearts will hurt when their beloveds are no more. Take hope away from love, love becomes the cruelest thing in the world. It may bring us joy, but it pales compared to the pain it may generate in the process of acquiring, maintaining, and losing the beloved.

Our flowering quince bush looks pretty dead in the dead of winter, but when the weather gets slightly warmer, it begins to bud. It may appear to be dead, but the hope of life is still flowing freely in the dry branches and, when the time comes, it blooms like a burning bush, revealing the presence of life and hope and, from its glorious blossoms, we may also see the face of God.