The Complexities of Hope

As we think about the upcoming year, we know that hope can feel elusive. Weighed down by uncertainty, exhaustion, and a world filled with division and stress, it’s easy to wonder if hope is even worth holding onto.

Hope carries heartache. Longing for something better can feel vulnerable, especially when past disappointments and cynicism weigh heavy on our hearts. It can feel safer to let go of hope than to risk the ache of unfulfilled desire.

But as Dan Allender shares, hope isn’t passive or naïve. It’s “a kind of patience that does not erase desire, but has a resilience to remain in the movement toward the dream that hope holds, with a kind of defiance—a willingness to say, I don't just wait passively, I wait in a way in which I'm willing to risk on the anticipation of the arrival of what my heart most deeply desires.”

Hope doesn’t deny the pain of the past or present; it’s a courageous choice to believe in the future possibility of good. And it often begins small—a moment of gratitude, a glimpse of beauty, or the connection we find with others.

This year, we can choose hope—not because it’s easy, but because it opens us up to something deeper, truer, and worth desiring.