Growing Hope

"We rejoice in hope...we also exult in our sufferings, knowing that suffering brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us." 
-Romans 5: 2-5

I realized yesterday when planning for this upcoming week that I've been sort of dreading it; mostly because it's Fall Break (why Spring Break alone can't suffice I'll never understand). This means the kids will be home all week, which I interpret as me becoming overwhelmed. It's another change in my routine that I've painstakingly pieced together over the past few months since the school year started, which has revealed luxuries such as zipping through the grocery store with only one kid in less than an hour, or detouring the car past Tarjay for wholly unnecessary trips that wear out my Red Card. I know a break in routine seems like a silly reason to dread a week of extra time with my little loves when I should be embracing it, but my mounting stress levels showed me how much I've come to depend upon that routine. Or maybe it's not so much the need for routine as the fact that I'm just not that good at change, even though I like to tell myself I am.


But it dawned on me that I struggle with a lot more than change when anticipating the days ahead. My silly little example of Fall Break gloom reveals a much greater struggle when it comes to my everyday attitude and outlook on life. In a nutshell, I've been failing miserably in a little virtue called hope.

See, here's the thing. This coming week well may be stressful. But there's also a good chance that it could be really awesome. I can't predict the future. The high points and low points I'll experience this coming week will probably have nothing to do with the expectations I'm setting now. But I'm already going into this week without even giving it a chance. I'm already setting myself up for failure.

It seems I've been good at that lately--giving up on something before I even give it a chance.

You know that saying, "hope for the best, prepare for the worst?" Yeah. Lately I've invested very little in the 'hope for the best' department; I let my anxiety for the potetial worst take over, and I've made preparing myself for it--the hard stuff, the stress, the possible disappointents--my main focus.

-It's hopeless to think we'll get to stay in this neighborhood like we want...we're never going to find the right house at the right price.
-This body of mine is just never going to work right. 
-It's pointless to schedule a ski trip that weekend. It's flu season. We'll probably all be sick. (By the way, when planning for ski season this [ir]rationale somehow became my line of thinking for any weekend stretching from now until next March).
-I'm so worried about the health/circumstances/test results of [insert names of countless family members and friends]. And I have no control over what happens. 
-A whole week with the kids at home? When it's supposed to be cold and rainy no less?! Holy stress mess!

Reading back on this inner dialogue makes many of these thoughts seem pretty preposterous. But they really do become the dominant voices in my head. And unfortunately I'm in good company. There are so many of us who don't ever get our hopes up too high for anything because there's a vague possibility they might come crashing down, leaving us all the more disappointed. We believe that Mondays must be inherently bad, that the the promotion will never come, that the sweet dreams we no longer dare to whisper aloud have become as elusive as the naive young child who once believed them.

But God Himself charges us to have hope. He plants in the heart of a child the truth we've all forgotten. The truth that hope is vital to our health and wellbeing. Without it, our souls will just wither away and die to despair. We are so good at 'bracing' ourselves for disappointment to spare ourselves more pain than necessary, but in our effort to escape additional suffering in any given situation, we also rob ourselves of the joy we might experience on the flip side. And we need that joy to get beyond the chore of surviving and graduate into the realm of thriving.

When I force myself to see the flip side--to understand that there is a possibility that something good might happen; that a day might contain some joy that I have the right, and even the responsibility, to expect--things start looking a whole lot brighter.

-This house is the perfect home for our family right now, and we have the luxury of staying as long as we need to. 
-I have strong legs that can carry me to mountain peaks and eyes with perfect vision to soak in the beauty of creation. I have good insurance, and sound faculty of body and mind to find doctors of my choice whom I trust and who care for my entire being. I have hope that they might even help me find relief soon. 
-We're lucky enough to be healthy most of the time. Which means that there's a greater chance of being healthy than sick on any given ski weekend. And if we're skiing, that means we'll also be sharing the joy of flying through the snow with the kids as they learn. We have so many memories to look forward to.
-My God loves and cares for each of my family members and friends more than I ever could. He's in control of their circumstances, even if I'm not.  
-We get an extra day together as a family this week. And we don't have to be anywhere in the morning. We can sleep in if we want and stay in our PJs. We get to spend extra time with friends. We might even get to those crafts I keep putting off!

It doesn't matter how crushingly overwhelming or how seemingly trivial our trials are. Hope is the foil that can help us escape from the pessimism, worry, depression, and anxiety that pervade our outlook and threaten to steal our joy. Hope can lift the veil to reveal that the disappointments we dread, the tasks we detest, the stress and anxiety under which we might crumble, do not have to have the last word. But hope is an action verb, not just a noun. In order for hope to lift that veil, we need to seek it. We need to find it in the most unlikely of places. We need to open our hearts to plant its seed, condition ourselves to nurture it and let it grow, and open our eyes to see its fruit.

Yes, to taste its sweetness, to ultimately possess the virtue of hope, we must actually do so--hope.

But pessimissm is a hard habit to kick. So, in a nod to the necessity of this virtue I've been neglecting, I'm setting myself up for hope this week. I'm going to try and reprogram my thought process, reminding myself when I'm becoming all defeatist that there's a chance the outcome could actually be favorable. That good things can and will happen. I've already started strategically putting up  post-its and setting reminders for myself so I can recommit when I start lagging, or reverse my thought pattern when the negativity starts taking over.

I'm also posting this little reflection now, not at the end of the week when I could wax poetic about all the joy and lovely happenings that hope magically bestowed upon me when I decided to pay it a little attention. Instead, I'm going into this week blind; forcing myself to put all my preaching into practice and choosing hope, whatever the circumstance, without knowing the outcome ahead of time. And I'm going to challenge myself to post again at the end of the week with the results of my little experiment of putting hope into action. I still don't know what this week will hold. But isn't that the magic of it? A whole week of unknown possibilites, a whole week filled the gift of life, is just waiting to be unpacked and treasured.

I hope you'll join me this week, and maybe share both what holds you back and spurs you on as you grow your own little seed of hope.

Hopefully, when all's said and done, we'll have some beautiful inspiration to share with each other!