How do you carry through life without being completely hopeless? It appears to be a deeply held human survival tactic to develop a hard enough shell not to be fully distraught – to the point you sit on your Cheeto covered couch binging reruns of Frasier (not that I have experience here). Even the softest of hearted people are afraid to go full bleeding heart. This world is dark. This world is cold. This world can break the best of us.
This is the point of the blog where I would share good news . . .
I have a weird relationship with the radio. Every morning and evening I have a sizable commute. In an effort to redeem this time, I listen to NPR and engage with the news of the day. This is a practice of violent grounding; a reminder of the world’s sinful sway. We undoubtedly need to be engaged with the world and culture around us, more so as Christ followers, but how do we keep a hopeful spirit? If there is a joy in faith, how do we attain it?
The truth is, I don’t have an answer. I have seen great signs of hope and the perseverance of strength within the human spirit. I have seen countless single moms who have sacrificed to raise compassionate kids. I have seen the rich give out of their plenty and the poor give out of their poverty. But these can never seem to counteract the depth of evil that plagues us. Maybe it was never supposed to. Maybe the cross was the last hope. One more tragedy for one sliver of hope. A violent headline to help a violent people.
In times like these, it can be difficult for us to believe in God’s goodness. When we are honest, we can point to the wealth of evidence to the contrary. Yet, deep within our soul, behind the headlines and heartbreak, there is a kernel of faith. This dying ember is brighter on some days than others, but we know it’s there. When it seems farther off, forgetting its resting place, may its gentle whisper calls us home. What God places in man is everlasting. This gives me hope on days like today. Knowing no matter how much deconstruction I do, the tiny hope I try to deny is forever fixed to my soul. It is a part of me. No amount of running. No amount of denying. No amount of tears or anger can drown it’s silent ache.
Hope is hiding, but it can be found. Hope is grit.
Matt simon blog 