This weekend we had one of my favorite yearly events at church: Lessons and Carols. There’s something special about taking a macro view of the Bible, and stepping back to admire the simple plot running throughout this very complicated book. Through the self-giving love of Christ, God made a way to bring us from brokenness and mistrust to healing and wholeness in Him.
The Invitation
While there were several points from that night that have stuck with me, one comment our pastor made really stood out in the moment. He said, “I know we have all entered into the sanctuary carrying heavy parts of our story.” The invitation was extended for us to set aside the heavy things we carried in for the duration of the program.
We each have our own stories, but we simultaneously live inside of this larger redemption story as well. He suggested perhaps as the night goes on, our own stories could be seen in light of the bigger story that is also (and ultimately even more) true. He wondered aloud that maybe when the evening was over, whatever heaviness we brought into the evening might be re-sized after spending some time focusing on the truth of God’s larger story.
Complications with Hope
I felt some resistance to this idea, at first. To be completely honest, I didn’t feel like a few hours of singing and scripture would resize all that I’ve been carrying. At that moment it felt like my stuff was “too complicated,” “too nuanced,” “too big,” and even “too long term,” to be resized so easily. Maybe other people with cute little burdens would benefit from this thought!
But simply as a thought experiment, I said, “what do I have to lose?” Just to see what happened.
So I prayed a simple (read: underwhelming) prayer of, “Ok, Jesus. I’ll focus on this instead of the other stuff and you can do what you want with that.”
The Thrill of Hope?
I have an admittedly troubled relationship with the word “hope.” My analytical mind complicates this topic quite a lot. Hope for what? Sometimes it feels as though I’ve seen too much, prayed too long, and had my hopes dashed far too often to bother with hope again.
The familiar song, O Holy Night (best sung by Celine Dion, in my opinion), includes the line, “the thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices.” In the sense that “thrill” can sometimes involve a degree of nervousness…sure. But sometimes hope can feel more fear inducing to me. And I don’t think I’m alone in this.
What if it doesn’t work out?
What if I get my hopes up and nothing changes?
Can I really sustain hoping again?
Wrestling with Hope
The older I get, the more connection I see between tenacity and hope. I have to wrestle for hope. I even have to wrestle with hope. (It’s a slippery little sucker.) I use the fact that it’s easier for me to have hope for others to bridge hope over to myself. My story is not the exception. I can have hope for my story, too. Even when I’m scared to hope.
For me, the song could go, “a sliver of hope, the weary world rejoices.” But the good news to me is, if I can fight for a sliver, hope takes root.
Too much time spent zoomed in on my own story and hardships reduces hope. As is often the case, it turned out my pastor was right. After a few hours of singing truths about God’s loving plan of rescue and redemption, my circumstances were exactly the same.
But I did feel lighter. It did inspire some awe in me that the triune God has a much grander story arch than my own.
Hoping for Hope
While my hardships are indeed hard for me, they take place in a grander scheme that is not about me at all. There’s something incredibly comforting to re-size my personal troubles in light of the scope of God’s story.
If it’s easier for you to find hope in the big story of God but harder to find in your own story, you’re not alone. I totally get it. It’s a complicated topic. Shifting perspective, even if it begins with an underwhelming prayer, can sometimes be helpful. It takes a lot of courage to fight for hope. Remember that sometimes a little sliver of hope is all you need.
I think God’s okay with the fight. With our fear of disappointment. He’s ok with our neurotic frailties. He remembers that he made us from dust and honors our desire to hope for hope.
If you’re needing some help practically reframing your story in light of the bigger story of God, may I recommend the tried and true two column assignment? It’s simple and effective. Grab a piece of paper. Draw a line down the middle. On one side write all that you’re facing that feels heavy and burdensome. On the other, write down things that are still true about you, humanity, and God, despite those hardships. It won’t change your circumstances but at least it’s a place to start wrestling with hope.
Here is the link to watch Lessons and Carols from my church if you need a little hope injection today.
