in the name of hope

last night, i was going through some old blog posts and found this essay by Jenny Schroadel that i picked up from Boundless zine she titled “In the Name of Hope”. I posted it at the beginning of 2008 and I guess it’s part of that thing i started last year about not worrying and just enjoying what I have at the moment. and i think, something God wanted  remind to remind me of once again.

Things haven’t been really easy right now for me. But i’m not lying whenever i tell people that i’m just awesome whenever they ask how I am… it’s just that the struggle never stops. There are still some things– emotions, issues, questions, worries– that i daily have to choose to let go of to move forward.

If you want to act in the name of hope, you must first become aware of the voices of despair, that come to us both consciously and unconsciously — voices that sneer, “You mess everything up” or “You’ll always be alone.”

and once recognized, the best way to fight these voices of despair is to do concrete acts of hope. As Steven Press field wrote in The War of Art, “Never forget: this very moment, we can change our lives. There never was a moment, and never will be, when we are without the power to change our destiny…. This second we can sit down and work.”

Over the years, I’ve tried to strike a balance between being open to good possibilities — and being willing to move toward them as they become more tangible, while also admitting that sometimes the things I want most might not, in the end, be what I need.

Years ago, when I was trying to decide if I should go to college or on a short-term missions trip a pastor offered me this advice. He said, “Don’t pray for doors to open. Just keep walking forward and pray that God will close the doors that he doesn’t want you to walk through.” Or as my seminary professor Dr. Albert Rossi likes to say, “Just do the next, best thing.”

But of course, when God closes the door, and hope seems elusive, that’s when we need it most. Hope is the flashlight we hold onto as we stumble through the dark toward the open window…

Hope is not presumption. Even if it spreads its branches toward heaven, it is rooted in the soil of this earth. We don’t just assume — or promise to others — outcomes that have no basis in reality. Hope most often seems to work in the confines of our own experiences, the limits of human time, and in our frail bodies — bodies that sometimes don’t get well no matter how hard we pray.

I’m not expecting that things are going to change and my struggle for hope will be won as soon as I pray, get off this bed, get showered, dressed and out of the door. Today, I will, just as I had in most days before (I can’t claim to be THAT consistent yet), walk and live in the name of hope. Because hope is learned on the job, not inside a room while thinking about it.

“Hope is learned — it is not a given. You don’t just do it; you don’t just have it; you grope for it in the dark…As we find hope, we find evidence that He’s just been here. Hope is the bread crumbs that God leaves for us, not just to find our deepest desire or dream — but Him.” (Jarrod Voltz, died of cancer at the age of 29)

One of the best things about believing in God (and I have been called “delusional” many times for this), is that I know that I’m not alone. There is the One, who is much more powerful, ultimately wiser and more patient that I could ever be, who watches over me. And when I hope in Him, it never fails, because He never fails.

And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out His love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom He has given us. (Romans 5:5)

Today, I will walk in the name of hope.