Over the last week anger, division, and hate have fueled the newsfeeds. As millions feel the sun has slipped below the horizon covering their lives with darkness, millions of others see a sunrise bringing light to their shadows.
And I wonder, pushing down despair, if the hate will end?
Maybe? Maybe not…
I look into the arguments as different and varied as the humans who hold them, and I see the logic and reason and the ignorance and bias all wrapped up into one. I see so much right in all the sides.
And so much wrong.
I find myself stuck somewhere in the middle of everything matters and nothing matters.
All at the same time.
And so on the newsfeeds I’m loving the babies and puppies and unicorns and flowers and rainbows.
Not because I’m scared to stand up for what I believe is true or right or just. But because I want to look deep into the eyes of those who disagree with me. Deep so they know I love them. Deep so they may hear my heart, even if they never hear my ideology.
I can’t do that on a screen.
The words of the broken matter. The broken beautiful collection of humanity. Each and every one of us. I cannot agree with all of the words. But I can hear them. I can try to hear the hearts, understand the starting points.
So I’m trying to listen.
And in my quiet weeks typing on again and off again, I find Hope. Hope that my Jesus carries on the wind, breathing life into my soul.
This afternoon, I looked deep into the eyes of a sweet baby girl. New and fragile. Tiny and strong.
She has her Daddy’s skin and her Momma’s chin. She coos and wriggles and smiles and cries. She is cherished and loved.
She is Hope.
Yes. She’s breathing in a broken world. But this life? Even in it’s shattered pieces?
And maybe tonight you’re heart is seeing the sun slip below the horizon. Your pain and sadness, your worries and fears are not minimized here.
And maybe tonight you’re seeing the day break open. Your joy and singing, your relief and support are not minimized here.
Because Hope has countless faces.
Hope is for every broken soul. It’s the spilled-out, shimmering glitter spread across the surface waiting for the light to hit, for us to see it clinging tight. Even when we try to brush it off, it sticks—sparkling and reminding us we are never alone.
Because we don’t have to agree to hold one another. We don’t have see the world the same to grasp the hands of those across the street. We can come from separate worlds and still find the beauty of each human soul.
Because Hope has a way of removing the bitterness. It has a way of reminding us that the world and its people can shine brilliance into each other.
Because Hope is waiting to be seen.
Hope is Jesus, leaning in close, taking your hand whispering, Come with me. I’ll hold your hand. Yes. The road is long. The road is broken. The road is not what you expected. But I will walk with you. And when you feel like one more step is impossible? I will carry you.
Because Hope is worth living for.