Leaning Into Hope

by Andrea Kolber


I don’t know where you are coming from in your life right now, but I can tell you things have been getting real around here. As we dove into 2015, our family has had some big decisions to make and a lot of planning around what the year could look like.

Typically, I enjoy this. I’m a bit of a planner (at least a big picture person), but this year it has been particularly hard for me to sit down and “plan.”

To be very honest, I think it is mostly because I’m humbled over how little I have control of these days. Frankly, I kind of want to have a tantrum because it just feels unfair. Yes, there is an element of influence from me in our decisions and goals, but the older I get, the more I recognize how very small I really am.

It’s interesting that as a young child we developmentally understand the world to revolve around us. I guess it’s a good sign in terms of my maturity for me to continue to learn how little it actually does.

So it would be easy amid all of this to get a little negative, a bit frustrated. Because for a recovering perfectionist, this is hard news. It can even make me feel a little bereft because without my own ability to change the situation, I feel scared and vulnerable  But here is the thing that’s been whispering in my ear.

"...Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us" Romans 5:5

Hope. 

Where do I place my hope? No, really? Is it in myself and my ability to control or is it the only One who can give real hope? Ironically, the harder I try to make things "work," the less that they do. I have found that when I lean in to this hope which does not disappoint, I can let go of the stuff which does disappoint. 

This last week in church we talked about the difference between experiential knowledge and rational knowledge. So often I think we discuss hope in terms of a rational knowledge. I logically believe my faith brings me hope, but experientially I often don't.

I am learning that one of the primary ways we pursue experiential knowledge is to risk. When I cling to control, I have little reason to risk because control keeps me feeling "safe." 

But when I yield control and recognize that while I have dreams and goals, there is One who is bigger than all of it, and in Him is my greatest hope.