Finding Hope for Ourselves & Carrying it for Others

By Julia Pferdehirt, BJM Director of Women’s Ministry

I have a friend who recently ended an unhealthy relationship and, because of quarantine, would be alone on her birthday. So she asked for old-school birthday cards in the mail. She knew the difference tangible, handwritten notes could have. She took the risk of saying, “This sucks and I don’t like this—being alone, away from family.” She was vulnerable and real enough to ask for an injection of hope through these cards.

Through this kind of practical kindness, we can carry hope for others who feel hopeless until they are able to carry it themselves. We can create a space with love, listening, and nonjudgmental care where hope can live, even in the midst of social distancing and global pandemic. Regular, everyday love speaks louder than any preaching or words. We can take love in when we don’t have any capacity to take in theology. “Small things with great love,” in the words of Mother Teresa, can encourage and carry hope when hope is hard to find.

Being a hope carrier doesn’t mean denying reality. It doesn’t mean we deny that it’s hard. It means we meet people experiencing hardship with practical, relational love. Hope has to have hands and feet. Basic elements of a relationship carry hope. When someone says “I feel hopeless,” carrying hope for them looks like responding, “I’m still gonna be here. I’m still gonna keep showing you love in practical ways, and keep hoping for you until you can hope for yourself.”

Scripture is meant to be life-giving and encouraging. And, for some people, sadness, loss, or even clinical depression can make it very difficult to find hope—even in scripture. In fact, they may feel guilty because they read scripture and still feel despairing. They know the “words of life” and still cannot feel alive.

If this is you, know that this is not failure. Not sin. But deep hopelessness and pain. And in such situations, the truth of scripture—love, kindness and service—lived out in practical ways may speak more clearly to hurting hearts than words or verses. We have the opportunity to invite Jesus into the everyday and celebrate hope in whatever form it comes, especially in times like these. Whether it’s calling a friend, reading a book, or simply taking a deep breath and checking in with your body, find moments to look forward to. Whatever you find hope in, grab onto it and come to Jesus with it. He may redefine that hope, but He wants us to have it.

If you find hopelessness is becoming the norm rather than the exception, if it feels like hopelessness is taking over, if it dominates your thoughts, emotions, capacity, and relationships, do not do this alone. Get yourself some real help. Call a therapist. Find someone with some wisdom. Talk to your doctor. Go back to that 12 step meeting. Do not do this alone.

And if you see loved ones feeling hopeless, ask yourself how you can carry hope for them. I think of the beach town where my daughter lives. The entire community carries hope for one another through the “8 o’clock howl.” At 8:00pm when medical providers are getting home, everyone in town steps onto their porches and cheers. Because of the distance between houses, clapping alone wouldn’t be heard. But howling echoes off the ocean and resounds through the town. When I asked my granddaughter why people howl, she said, “Because coronavirus is scary and the doctors make people feel better.”