A friend and I were recently talking about hope. Not in the normal "Isn't hope great?" way...really more in a desperate, hurt, "why is it so hard?" kind of way. Finally, staring at the floor, almost afraid to say it out loud, I let out the words I’d been thinking for some time. “Sometimes hope just feels…brutal.” I meant it. I really meant it. Did Solomon say hope deferred made the heart sick? Yeah…if by sick he meant pulverized. Obliterated. Exhausted. Taunted. Have I scandalized you yet? Hopefully, dear reader, you've already identified the problem...we were not talking about Jesus, nor were we talking about salvation and the hope of seeing heaven. We were talking about husbands and marriage. Well... we were griping. About Proverbs 13:12.
I'm reluctant to pinpoint the source of my sorrow because (1) it makes me feel mildly pathetic, and (2) I didn't want the specifics of my situation to become the topic of conversation. However, in order to understand where I was coming from, you might as well know. I’m not married. In fact, the last time I intentionally went on a date was…a really long time ago. And the invitation started with “you’re the only girl I know around here, so…” Details like this didn’t seem appropriate for the writer profile section of my blog, so I might as well go on to tell you that I’m childless, single and just slightly over the typical marrying age. At least so far as the American Christian sub-culture is concerned. That sub-culture seems to gauge eligibility and parenthood in a conversion scale strikingly similar to dog years. Many of my friends got married when they were 19 or 20 and are now blessed with beautiful children that fill their homes with precious laughter and the sort of chaos I used to dream of. I wanted a passel of kids to fill my life with adventures and a husband that I could come alongside of and serve God with. I still do. But God is leading my heart to see that the gifts that He has given me are precious as well.
I know that we all have things we hope for. We hope for healing. We hope for pain to stop. We hope for happy things to start, and we hope a thousand things a day to that end. I spent my adolescence reading novels and attending studies, seminars, and camps that encouraged the practice of purity in consideration of the marriage we would someday have. So, as a teen I started investing in my marriage. Saving thoughts, experiences, and adventures to share with the husband that I knew God would bring one day. Years down the road, I was still alone. Wallowing. Because God hadn't given me what He'd given seemingly everybody around me. I'd spent all that time storing up the riches of my heart (poor as they are) for a hero that didn't appear. There was no precious heart to cherish and no heart waiting for me to trust with my own. I'm not generally mushy, but I think its necessary to communicate how extensively hope- hope for something precious and holy and pure, had left me sorrowful, hurt, and disheartened.
That's a pretty big problem. Hope hurt. I didn’t want it anymore. But I know my God. I know His love, and I know that He would never tell me to hope when He really meant despair. Determined to have it out with the problem of hope, I hit the Word. True, there were instances of hope being mentioned in a sorrowful or painful light, but those were largely from Job. And Solomon. That should have been my first hint. I kept on, looking up instance after instance of "hope" in Scripture. At first I found myself throwing back indignant answers to the verses I came upon, but as my Beloved continued to wash my heart with water through the Word, I felt myself soften towards Him.
I felt like the sun had risen in my heart. Scripture after Scripture reminded me that Jesus, my Precious Redeemer, my Companion and Mighty Warrior; He is my hope. He is the promise. My hope was defeated because it was deferred- misplaced in something human. Not even something human- something potentially human that might someday materialize. I wanted a good thing. But my desire was inferior to my Savior and His plan...whatever it is for me. He has given me His very self and promised me a life together with Him.That's pretty significant. When I think of hope in the light of His gift, I can see that true hope is given by Him as much as it is defined by Him.
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