Hope Revisited
It seems like I'm continually trying to grasp how to have hope in the middle of hopelessness. To learn how to look past what is reality and see through eyes of faith, not fear. To see that in the torn places of the world and life, there will once again be good. To hope that a new normal will give way to better normal and all will not be lost.
If I'm not careful with the process of letting go of the old normal, I can allow myself to feel discouragement of plans canceled. Or in a rut of hashing over the unmet goals, dreams, and the unchecked boxes on my carefully planned to-do list that has no place in the new normal. You know what I'm talking about, we often concentrate on the hard places that felt a little harsh to handle. Ann Voskamp calls the hard places the torn places in our life. And some of the torn places actually rip us apart.
"What was intended to tear you apart, God intends it to set you apart. What has torn you, God makes a thin place to see glory."
- Ann Voskamp
There's that moment when hope is revisited, grace arrives in the torn places of the past, and hope begins for the new.
My Father passed away on November 2, 2019, and little did I know that some of his last words to me would propel me into the new of 2020. And little did I know how hard 2020 would be.
As his body was dying, his mind remained sharp. He said, "When I look at you, I see hope." As he uttered these eight, little, but significant words to me, the holiness of the moment when life transitions from death to new life, God spoke hope in the torn place. The place where I was weary from his extended illness and my heart was ripping into pieces.
You see, my friend, In the middle of it all there's hope. In death and dying, there is hope. In misunderstanding and misfortune, there's hope. In sickness and financial difficulty, there's hope because Jesus is hope in our torn places. Although all is not good in our life, all is good because God promises "that we can with great confidence know that God is deeply concerned about us and causes all things to work together for good for those who love God and are called according to His plan and purpose (Rom 8:28 AMP)."
Death, dying, and letting go is always a part of birthing hope and granting grace. During my dad's extended illness, I felt a little like Peter when he said, "All this talk of death and dying, Lord. No. Never." There were times I wanted to scream, "Why does death have to be a part of the process? Why can't we go on living?"
Why does it take torn places to bring us into close proximity with the one who died for us? Like Jesus' rebuke to Peter, I could also hear Jesus speak to me in the stillness of the night while I sat by my dad's bedside questioning the Sovereign's intentions. Whispering that 'it's only in dying and death that hope is fulfilled." To birth new dreams, old fears need put to rest. I could hear God speaking to me to trust Him to take me to the thin place so that I may see His glory. Because sometimes we need to embrace the dying places and trust that God will make all things good. Always.
As I arrived at my dad's bedside for the last time on Friday evening, he knew I was there, but he wouldn't speak to me again. His hope was about to become a reality. His belief that Heaven is a real place. Jesus did go to prepare a place for us. Jesus is all-loving and grace. As I stood there with my mom in his final hours on earth, a holy hope entered the room. I had the realization that something bigger than me was bringing peace to the situation. That in death, I could continue to hope. That during the thin and torn places, God is taking me to a new level of trust. The journey would be difficult, but hope remains, grace abounds, and embers in our heart will blaze again with new dreams and hope-filled promise.
Thomas Watson, a Puritan preacher, wrote, "If the worst things work for good to a believer, what shall the best things? Nothing hurts the godly … all things … shall co-operate for their good, that their crosses shall be turned into blessings." So, my friend, as we revisit hope and contemplate letting go of the holy torn places, get ready for the birthing of new hope. Get prepared for your new blessings—they're on their way. Even in the middle of the torn places.