O Hope That Will Not Let Me Go

My hurting friend, I know today was hard. I know your heart hurts. And I know that the vision for your life that you once had has changed. It isn’t as bright. It holds more pain. And you’re scared of what tomorrow could bring. After all, your body already doesn’t function as it should today. How much worse could it become tomorrow? You walked into your doctor’s office with just a glimmer of hope in tact, only to walk out with that hope completely shattered. There was no good news. There is no real fix.

So you find yourself broken tonight. Not just physically. But emotionally. The tears fall as the news continues to sink in. As you continue to process everything the doctor said. You’ve been looking for an answer for years. That carrot on a stick that you’ve chased for so long. And the carrot tastes bitter. There’s some comfort in no longer being stuck in the chasm of unknowns, but the answer has brought more questions and more pain than you expected. The hope that an answer would fix things is gone and in its place is despair over how much worse everything seems now than it did just this morning.

You feel a bit like the disciples in John chapter 6, only they at least had a boat. The vessel you’re currently floating in feels more like an inflatable dinghy. The sky is dark, hiding the land on the horizon. The sea is tumultuous and with each crashing wave it feels like your little vessel will capsize, leaving you at the mercy of the storm and angry sea. But, my weary friend, lift up your eyes for your Savior approaches.

“When evening came, His disciples went down to the sea, got into a boat, and started across the sea to Capernaum. It was now dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them. The sea became rough because a strong wind was blowing. When they had rowed about three or four miles, they saw Jesus walking on the sea and coming near the boat, and they were frightened. But He said to them, ‘It is I; do not be afraid.’ Then they were glad to take Him into the boat, and immediately the boat was at the land to which they were going.” – John 6:16-21

One verse from a hymn has been running through my head on a loop these past couple of months, and I hope it will now run through yours.

“Oh Love that will not let me go

I rest my weary soul in Thee

I give Thee back the life I owe

That in Thine ocean depths its flow

May richer, fuller be.” – O Love That Wilt Not Let Me Go by George Matheson

That first line especially has stuck with me, only with a word change. “Oh hope that will not let me go.” A couple of months ago when I thought there could be a chance of healing my nerve symptoms this side of heaven, I was too scared to hope for that answer myself. I remember asking God to hold that hope for me because I was afraid to grasp onto it just to watch it shatter at my next doctor’s appointment. And shatter it did. But that one little line still continued to play in my weary heart. It was then that I realized I was holding onto the wrong hope. I needed to hold onto the only hope that wouldn’t break. And that was Jesus Christ.

My hurting friend, your life can still be rich and full in the midst of the ocean on which you find yourself sailing. Yes, there are waves, but Jesus is in your little dinghy with you. Let Him be your Hope. Let Him be your anchor. And soon you’ll find yourself at the land to which you are going. And when you reach that heavenly land, your Savior will give you a new body. He will dry those final tears. And He will calm the waves once and for all.

“He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” – Revelation 21:4

“But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like His glorious body, by the power that enables Him even to subject all things to Himself.” – Philippians 3:20-21

Elizabeth Elliot once said, “The bigger our pain now, the bigger that ‘weight of glory’ will be. It’s mysterious, it’s unimaginable, but it’s going to be, and for that we give thanks.” Until the day He wipes your final tears away, let the pain of your current suffering fuel your anticipation of eternity with Him. Let it fuel your thankfulness for all He suffered in order to give you this promise of a future hope.

“Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through Him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly.” – Romans 5:1-5

Never forget, my hurting friend, that your Savior suffered for you. And not only that, He did so without sinning, providing us an example of how to walk through our own suffering. Run to Him. Run to the One who can help you walk through this valley. The One who can sympathize with your weaknesses. Run to the One who will not let you go. To the Hope that will not let you go.

“Since then we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” – Hebrews 4:14-16

“Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by command of God our Savior and of Christ Jesus OUR HOPE [emphasis added].” – 1 Timothy 1:1