Hope isn’t a feeling. It’s a person.
When you are confused and baffled—hope endures.
As you come face-to-face with your weakness and failure—hope endures.
When you feel too young or too old to fulfill your dreams—hope endures.
When you feel all alone—hope endures.
As you assess your past and your present losses—hope endures.
When your body rejects you, and the pain seems unfair—hope endures.
When you think it’s too late now to change—hope endures.
As you fight with the darkness within and without—hope endures.
When you realize that you are not the person you want to be—hope endures.
If you feel lost and afraid—hope endures.
When you look to the future, and you wonder if something better is on the horizon—hope endures.
Even if you think you’re hopeless—hope endures.
How is this possible, you ask?
Because it’s never been about you, your abilities, your strength or your will.
Hope is not based on what you know or feel or think or accomplish.
Hope is found in who you know. Hope isn’t a feeling; it’s a person.
You can’t find hope in a bottle or hope through sex or sports or food or another. Seeking hope through anything or anyone else but Jesus is a distraction from true, real and lasting hope.
So hope in the one who is never confused, afraid or weak.
Hope in the one who never gives up on you.
Hope in the one who knows all, sees all and loves you, nonetheless. Restlessly and radically so.
Hope in the one who says, “Put your hope in me because you are precisely the person I am making you to be. I know you better than you know yourself. I know every word, thought and deed you’ve ever done or ever will do, and I’m never going to give up on you. Never.”
That’s hope for you.