Hope is the anchor for my soul. It is the thing that has been holding me steady over the last year as I’ve endured wave after wave of changes. Some of those changes have been out of my control, directly related to the COVID-19 pandemic. My work life shifted into wearing masks and safety glasses and treating patients through a screen or in an isolated room. I’ve adapted how I interact with my littlest patients using the sound of my voice, no longer being able to rely on my smile and facial expression to help them feel comfortable. Our home moved from being a place of welcoming many to just a small few. As an extrovert who thrives on connecting with friends, I’ve had to limit my social life and figure out who my people would be.
Then changes came as the result of my own prayerful decisions. My family and I moved to a new house, leaving our previous home of 14 years. I’m thankful for our new house but I also experienced sadness in leaving the place where Greg and I started our family, our kids had been babies and are now tweens, holiday traditions were made, birthdays were celebrated and losses were mourned. In January, I ended the small business that I had invested in for over 11 years. That meant a change in relationships, a change in our finances, and a change in my weekly schedule. While I can rejoice knowing the end of one thing has also meant the beginning of something new, it still meant change.
Have I mentioned that I’m a person who doesn’t like change? I like predictability! I like knowing what my day-to-day will be like. I like being able to look towards the future and have an idea of what’s happening next. Change mostly looks like uncertainty. I don’t know what my work life will look like in the future. I can’t put a date on when our new home will welcome a crowd of friends for a celebration. I won’t know if the memories made in this house will be as beautiful as the last until more time has passed. I can’t predict if the new thing I’m taking a chance on will mean success or failure. All I really can do is step into all of those changes with hope. My hope isn’t in all of those things working out in a specific timeframe or in the way that I want. My hope isn’t in what I can see but what I can’t see. It’s a hope that is anchored in knowing Jesus, trusting in His character, and clinging to His words.
Eugene Peterson in his book, “A Long Obedience In the Same Direction”, says this about hope:
Hoping is not dreaming. It is not spinning an illusion or fantasy to protect us from our boredom or our pain. It means a confident, alert expectation that God will do what he said he will do. It is imagination put in the harness of faith. It is a willingness to let God do it his way and in his time. It is the opposite of making plans that we demand that God put into effect, telling him both how and when to do.
He links hope to the idea of being a watchman from Psalm 130: 5-6
I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,
and in his word I hope;
my soul waits for the Lord
more than watchmen for the morning.
The watchmen are waiting and watching through the night for the dawn to arise. For me, hope has looked like that this past year. When the night has felt long and the cloud cover hides the stars that light the sky, my eyes are wide open and looking for a glimpse of light from the sunrise. While I’m waiting and watching for God to move now, I’m also looking back and remembering His faithfulness of the past.
Pete Greig in his online course, Unanswered Prayers, recently said “The lights you have once known will carry you through the dark into the light of dawn.” I’m taking my God-moments and making them into stars to light up the night. I’m remembering how He rescued me when I was a broken and lost college student. I’m remembering the many years of waiting for my husband to share my life with and then God orchestrating the unexpected friendship with Greg that evolved into our forever. I’ll never forget the arrival of our daughter, Hailey, after years of struggling with infertility and multiple miscarriages. She is my constant reminder of the God who sees me and is faithful. These are my big stars and when I slow down enough to consider my life, there are lots of little stars too.
I suspect that you are facing uncertainty in your life, just like I am. Your life has shifted and things aren’t the same and you need more hope to steady you and carry you through the night. Maybe today you’ll make your own list of stars that will give you light as you watch and wait. My hope (and yours) isn’t in the outcome of tomorrow. It’s in Jesus, who IS who He says He says He is and who He promises to be. He will never leave me or forsake me.