Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t exactly doing a victory dance just yet, but what I was doing was immersing myself in the Lord, in His word, and every televangelist who I could set my DVR to or listen to on the radio. Any modality the Lord wanted to use to infuse His word into me was a welcome relief. I gobbled up books upon books about this horrible dark pit I had fallen into, about night seasons, spiritual storms. But all of those words, written or spoken, were taking some time to sink in. More than anything I wanted the Lord to simply flip the switch, turn off this nightmare, and turn back on the lights. I prayed for a quick reversal of this misfortune, anything that could erase this horrible new reality, but there was no quick fix coming. In fact, the only thing I knew without doubt was that my feet were on a path, and I knew I had to walk through this dark night with all of its knife-sharp hail, the terrifying jags of lightning, the horrific thunder. I had finally built up my resolve. I refused to linger, but I couldn’t figure out if I was moving in the right direction. God had forgiven me. That was a wonderful feeling. But the truth was, I hadn’t quite forgiven myself.
This is the memo I wanted to send to all of my friends: Guys! Pity party my house. Stat! Yeah, it was going down, all right, but the guest list consisted of just me. I willingly drank the maddening wine of comparison. I was doing the exact opposite of what the Lord wanted—juxtaposing myself with other people, other women. As if life wasn’t challenging enough in my own lane, I was trying to illegally cross a double yellow line and figure out how to become someone else. It took a good long while—and a couple dozen solid sermons on the topic—for me to figure out this was not the path He wanted. I was created unique, and I was to live out my unique life in the manner He had intended just for me.
The same goes for you. He has an amazing plan for you, but here’s the thing: no one else is capable of carrying it out quite like you. It’s basically pointless to look to others and dwell on how great they’re doing—how seemingly problem-free their perfect lives are—because at the end of the day, their lives aren’t so perfect either. Yes, they might have the very things you’re after, but those are their gains. This is the part where we dig deep, press into Jesus, accepting where we are and working with Him to take us to where we need to be. He cares about us. It’s such a relief. I promise you, a pity party is the only feast He is not interested in you having. The Lord repeats the phrase be strong several times to several different people within the Bible. King David says it best in Psalm 42:5: “Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise Him, my Savior and my God.” (NIV)
The solution sounds easy, far too easy for us professional pity partiers to comprehend. But the solution is real and it’s lasting. Put your hope in Him. Trust Him. Praise Him. So simple. So extreme. So radical.
Sometimes we see hope in two different ways. The first being incidentally gratifying. Take for example a hot day. You’re looking forward to getting your hands on a nice, cool drink—you hope you’ll get a frosty can of soda. You can practically taste it as you’re headed for the fridge. You pray your husband didn’t down the last one. A twinge of excitement hits you as your fingers curve over the handle. You open the door and there it is. “Hello, Dr. Pepper! Get your icy self into my stomach!”
The other way we look at hope is something of a wish or a dream. I hope I win the lottery. The very worst example ever, I know. But you get what I mean. It’s a far-off notion that we might as well accept will most likely occur to someone else. I’ve never won the lottery before, so I don’t see why I would think it would happen for me this time.
One version of hope seems wholly possible, the other wholly improbable.
The underpinnings of hope in the Bible are set to a different standard. According to God’s word, we don’t need to set limits on what God can do. He can heal the sick (Matthew 8:1-17), give sight to the blind (John 9:1-12), open the ears of the deaf (Mark 7:31-37), and raise the dead (Luke 8:40-56). The Bible states emphatically that there is nothing impossible for our God. He is the strength in our weakness. He is the deliverer of our souls. We already have eternity. We have Jesus. What good thing could He possibly withhold from us?
If that’s the case, why do we need to wait for these great things to manifest themselves sometimes? And I’m talking a big delay in some cases. More often than not, it has to do with the emotional maturity that only time can bring. He is building character in you, perseverance, and it’s the perfect opportunity to draw nearer to Him, to really get to know Him, to spend time simply breathing God.
The Bible says that if we ask according to His will, He will deny us no good thing. The key is getting on board with God’s plan for our lives. Once God’s will for our lives becomes our will, there is nothing for Him to deny. It was all laid out for you from the beginning. And it is truly yours to have.
But our flesh screams what about what I want? Doesn’t He care about what I want out of this life, too?
