I've probably talked about this verse before. But today God led me to a deeper understanding of a passage I've heard a hundred times. It's is not the first time that's happened, and it won't be the last. This verse is important though, since it's always been one of my favorites. I've always really resonated with the first part. Suffering? Yeah, I've done plenty of that, and I'd like to think that it's created a lot of perseverance and character in me. So much of who I am today is a direct result of the trials I've been through. They have molded me, strengthened my resolve, given me wisdom, and equipped me with great advice for others going through the same thing. As someone with depression, I know just how deep suffering can hurt, but every time I come back from the darkness I feel stronger. Suffering produces perseverance, and perseverance develops strong character.
I always got lost on the hope part though, because in many ways my suffering taught me to shun hope. To me, hope was foolish and dangerous. The fact that I couldn't manage to snuff out my hope for things was something I really didn't like about myself. Why couldn't I just remain detached? After so many disappointments with school, job prospects, boyfriends, friendships, and more, I didn't like the idea of having so much hope when there was so much that could go wrong again. After all, in the past it always seemed that the minute I thought things might be going well and hope really started to bloom, everything would come crashing down. So why would I want to let hope take root in my heart when it always seemed to wither as soon as it saw the sunlight? Then today I realized: My definition of hope was all wrong.
Hope is not tied to a certain situation. The hope that Paul is talking about in Romans 5 isn't the kind of hope that aches and shatters when another job application is met with silence or another relationship crumbles. The hope that is produced by suffering and perseverance and character is a deep, strong hope. That hope is the faith that God will never forsake us. It is the belief that the sun will always rise at the end of the night. Much to my surprise, today I found that hope firmly rooted and blooming in my heart, and finally saw its true nature.
Last night a dear friend called me in the wee hours, and when I picked up the phone I heard the relief in his voice as he said he was hoping that I would answer, because he was depressed and he knew I would understand. As I talked him through his worries, I found myself spreading hope to him. The reason I have that hope to give is the same reason I understood his despair - I have been in the darkness, and I have been led back to the light. After I hung up I thought back to all the times I have had similar conversations with friends who were going through some devastatingly bleak times. Even when so much of the evidence from my own life pointed to the foolishness of hope, I told them that things would get better, and I truly believe it. The character that has developed from the trials I have overcome, and the faithfulness of God that has shone in every valley, cultivates a hope that cannot be destroyed by the twists and turns of life. That hope is never foolish, even in the face of disappointment. True hope runs deep. It turns my face to the sunrise, even when the sorrow is so heavy I can barely lift my head.
Even when life disappoints us, hope truly does not. It keeps us pushing onward, to new blessings that are better than we ever could have imagined.
