Chasing After Me

Hope isn’t trite. Hope isn’t naivete. Hope isn’t an escape. Hope isn’t even wishful thinking.

I feel that all too often we brush off hope as something touchy, feely and squishy. Something meant to make us feel warm and fuzzy. Something Pollyanna-ish.

But we forget that hope is strong. Hope withstands. Hope gives comfort. Hope gives peace.

Sure, hope can make you happy and it can make you smile, but hope is bigger than optimism…bigger than happiness…

Hope is real.

People often ask me what keeps me going…how I can always look at the upside of situations…how I can smile so often…how I can be so happy.

The answer is hope.

Hope is mentioned a lot in the New Testament (it’s especially prominent in letters from Paul). The Greek definition of that word in every single reference is an expectation and a confidence. For me, that expectation and confidence is knowing God is with me. Always. Forever. There’s no shaking Love Himself.

That means, once you realize hope is unshakable, you might end up with the same happiness disease that I have. Be warned, with a realization of hope, you’ll end up laughing more, crying more, taking more risks, loving more people…because there is nothing – absolutely nothing – to lose.

The author of Hebrews calls hope an anchor for our souls. I think that’s a pretty good descriptor. Hope keeps us connected to a solid foundation. When storms come and hurl everything into a tailspin, hope is still connected to the foundation. In moments of unhappiness and in times of discontent hope still exists and reminds us that ultimately everything will be OK.

Hope withstands anxiety.

Hope withstands frustration.

Hope withstands when smiles don’t.

Hope dwells in our souls. Hope is everpresent. Hope gives our lives life.

Hope is bigger than us. Thank goodness, because then we’re not left holding on to ourselves when everything else feels like it’s falling apart. Hope being bigger than us also means that when peace and happiness overtake us, it’s not about ourselves either…we are fueled by the love of someone much bigger.

Call me an optimist. Roll your eyes. But don’t downplay hope’s power.

Hope is powerful. Hope changes people.

I would know. Hope changed me.

Hope is my anchor. Always.

There is one thing in life that regularly overwhelms me, chokes me up, and sends tears streaming down my cheeks.

It’s not what you think.

They’re happy tears.

Tears of gratitude.

I used to be ashamed of those moments. I saw them as my girly, oversensitive moments. Until a good friend told me that gratitude was one of the things she loved about me.

It wasn’t until that moment that I realized I didn’t need to be ashamed…because those moments are gifts. Those moments ground me…center me…bring things into perspective.

In that moment, I finally realized it’s not oversensitivity…it’s overflow from the foundation of my faith. It’s how I see the world. Gratitude is the glue that holds broken pieces of my heart and soul together when I’ve faced disappointment and sadness, or after I’ve exploded with happiness and excitement. Gratitude doesn’t erase moments, but recognizes and embraces the character that memories – good and bad – leave behind.

I don’t think gratitude came naturally for me. I think it came about as a survival mechanism. One can only take so much hurt. And, after having my heart shattered, I could either let the pieces lay there, or I could try to find a way to put them back together. And, I think the only way that pieces come back together is by identifying what’s good. Identifying what’s been learned. Identifying the impact of a life. Identifying the impact of a person. And then realizing that someone has a purpose for me that is greater than I can ever comprehend.

Gratitude is a current that propels me to get through each day.

And, today, I’m most grateful for the good friend who helped me realize that gratitude is a gift…you know who you are.

The root of joy is gratefulness. It is not joy that makes us grateful; it is gratitude that makes us joyful.” –David Steindl-Rast