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Saturday, June 29, 2013

Outgrowing Hope

Hope (noun): 1. the feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best. 2. a person or thing in which expectations are centered (dictionary.com)
Working morning shifts at camp, greeting parents and children as they arrive, I’ve noticed that typically kids don’t come in the door talking about all the bad things happening in their lives or all the bad things that could happen that day.  Instead what I hear is, “I really hope we’re swimming today,” or, “do we get to go to the game room today?” I love hearing, “do you know what??? My cousins are coming tonight from Wisconsin and I get to spend a whole week with them (and etcetera),” and then watching a child spend her whole day in light of that knowledge, that hope.  Everything that transpires that day will be filtered through the lens of the cousins’ imminent arrival. The good events of the day are very good, and the less fortunate events are only small, and possibly necessary, hindrances on her way to seeing her cousins.

I’ve also noticed that the younger the child, the greater her hopes for the day. The kindergarten kids skip into camp spewing optimism, while the 7th graders (who complain much more frequently than their younger counterparts) seem to make it a goal not to get too excited about anything.  I even find myself gulping down my enthusiasm surrounding the day’s filed trip or art project. I feel embarrassed to let people see my excitement, see what I’m counting on, see what I’ve set my hopes on. I have to be an adult. Hm. How is it that we outgrow hope, outgrow even optimism sometimes? Why does it seem that the older we get, the less we expect out of our days and the less we live in light of the good things to come? We commence our Mondays looking forward, basically, to Friday. We work, we leave, we get paid. I don’t know about you, but I’m just not satisfied with that.

I think that we might just be wired to hope. Without hope to drive and comfort us, we at best live mundane and muted lives. At worst we experience deep depression.
And maybe you’re thinking right now that you don’t have a lot to look forward to. Maybe your life is just sort of boring. 1) I’m not buying it. I’m guessing you probably just need to find things to hope in and/or get brave enough to actually let yourself hope. 2) If you’re a Christ-follower, you’re really without excuse for living plainly and hopelessly. We have a certain hope.  We have the Hope. Remember Hebrews 6:19-20?
19 We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, 20 where our forerunner, Jesus, has entered on our behalf. He has become a high priestforever, in the order of Melchizedek. 
And Romans 5:1-5?
Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand.And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings,because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.
 So, no big deal, we just have access to the throne of God through faith in Jesus’s sacrifice and have the Holy Spirit living within us. I think that calls for some wild hope, some lovely and joyous childlike hope.



P.S. When my mind is too crowded and noisy with my grown-up worries to hear hope’s quiet refrain, one of my favorite verses to turn to is Psalm 42:11. “Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.”   

1 comment:

  1. Wow - thank you Kelsey, I really needed that reminder today.

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