HOPE
I realize that over the last several years, I have become very cynical. Perhaps there are reasons why I trust less. I certainly have lost most of the naivety of my youth to my older self.
Experiences in life somehow allowed me to become more cognizant of the negative impacts the world can bring over time. I built walls and facades to shield me from the storms and stones that life throws my way. Upon reflection, some of those walls, while meant for protection, became projectiles themselves; a defense mechanism to prevent a strike before it even starts. In my self-preservation however, I have also become more cold, distant, and quite frankly scary to be around. In my desire to be safeguarded, I am no longer a refuge, but a person to avoid.
Hope is perhaps a familiar concept to most. The word is prevalent on sayings printed on home décor and art pieces adorning many homes. One may find the theme in poems, stories, and even movies.
In Christian circles, we hear the idea many times in The Holy Bible. It is one of the four words we delve into during the advent season. No matter how many prints I have on my wall that proclaim hope is within, they do not hide what does or does not live in its heart. Somewhere along the way, I have lost hope.
The book of Judges was set in a period of turmoil. The tribes of Israel had not completely possessed their allotted territories. They drifted to the norms of the Canaanites rather than adhering to the divine covenant given under Moses. They also had no king, so everyone did whatever seemed right in their own eyes. Chaos and violence ensued. Add to this a famine across the land, and no one could blame anyone for losing hope. Whether hopelessness is a result of crisis, or self-imposed discontent, the real tragedy is that hope tends to be right there, ready to be clung to again. We just can’t see it. Satan clouds our sight with hopelessness and defeat.
In the book of Ruth, we meet a woman named Naomi who by all accounts had a lifetime’s worth of crisis in the span of a few years. Much like Job, she knew what it was like to lose everything.
Naomi and her husband experienced famine and had to move away from their homeland to survive. If that wasn’t enough, her husband suddenly passed away. Her sons found love, and then they too died. Naomi and her two daughters-in-law found themselves hungry and alone.
When we experience crisis of our own, it can be hard to determine what our next steps should be. Each of us has our own way of processing trauma and grief. Self-awareness allows us to discover what those processes are. Perhaps you resonated with one of the strategies in the first chapter of Ruth. In her grief, Naomi pushed her daughters-in-law away. Orpha left to go back home. Ruth chose to stay the course and support her mother-in-law, in the face of leaving her own country behind. In our own grief, we have agency. We can choose to push people away like Naomi did. We can choose to leave like Orpha did, or we can stay the course as Ruth did.
“Where you go I will go. Where you stay I will stay.”
(Ruth 1: 16, NIV)
Sometime after the death of her sons, Naomi heard that things were getting better at home. A widow’s survival rate drastically decreased with a lack of heirs to take care of her. Her tribe would have laws to take care of widows, but those probably would not be provided for her in Moab; a country distantly related to the Israelites but rarely held much love or respect for each other. Somewhere in the bitterness, Naomi knew there would
be something for her in Bethlehem. Her decision to go back to her homeland was the turning point for her, she just couldn’t see it yet. She decided to leave the walls she built for the chance of something better. Perhaps Ruth, felt that pull as well, leaving the comfort of the familiar for relief. Of course, centuries later, renewed life would again be found in Bethlehem, in the form of a baby named Jesus, who would be the Hope of the world. Only God can orchestrate renewed life out of bitter sorrow.
It can be easy to lose our site on hope, especially when our circumstances are filled with chaos, tragedy, or destruction. We can be overwhelmed with the situation that we face or numb to its effects. Ironically, the walls we build can blind us from the very thing that can be our saving grace. In Naomi’s story, something or Someone drew her out. I believe she felt compelled by the Holy Spirit to look again to the Source of hope. This Light in the East was God.
“Wait upon the Lord, for He is like a light that arises out of the East…move always towards the East.” ~ Dutch Pietist Jodocus van Lodenstein.
In my own life, I too, feel a pull to “the East” or rather, outside the walls I have so painstakingly built. I wish to see His light, His joy, His hope once again. I know now it is Jesus calling me. Like Naomi and Ruth, I must break out of my fortress and follow the Source, to see and feel His hope again. Hope, my friends, isn’t just a faraway idea. Hope is here; you just may need to break down the walls to see it.
OUR CORPORATE PRAYER
Father, on this day we come before your throne with thanksgiving and our hearts filled with the Joy of the Lord. Our HOPE is built on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness.
We thank you, Father for going through the rough and tough periods of our lives with us, every step of the way, even when we do not think you are there. THANK YOU, Father! In the power of God’s Holy Spirit and Jesus our Lord and Master we make this prayer,
amen.