We’ve all been there. After some long, tough days, relief is in sight: finally, finally things are coming together. The doctor says the new meds are working. The boss says the promotion is in the bag. The editor loves your story, the kids are doing better in school, the marriage is on solid ground. At long last, there is hope.
And then it happens. Without warning, hope is snatched away, turned on its ear, stomped into the ground. You wake up in a reality you never planned on, looking at life from a perspective that doesn’t make sense. Death, divorce, illness, loss, disappointment.
This is NOT how this is supposed to go, your heart cries. This was supposed to end well.
How do we respond? Do we give up? Or do we summon the last bits of strength and hang on to the ledge with the tips of our fingernails?
At that moment, knowing what we cling to makes all the difference. What is our hope built on? If it is people, or governments or some other institution, the sands of disappointment will slide hope out from under us.
But if the foundation of our hope is solid and real, we have a place to stand; a steady rock that will not move.
Over two thousand years ago, a group of loyal followers hit their lowest point. They’d given up everything to follow a “savior,” a man who was going to change everything. He was going to free them from Roman rule, give them a future. He’d ridden into town amidst cheering crowds, triumphant. He was what they had waited for.
But in a few short days, everything changed. He was arrested, tried and crucified. All their hopes and dreams and plans were buried with him in that tomb. They were shocked. Stunned.
What now, they cried? We thought He was the answer. He was our hope.
But in the midst of their despair, Sunday dawned. Everything changed again.
From inside the empty tomb, an angel chided them. “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; he has risen! Remember how he told you?” (Luke 24:5-6, The Bible)
Hope was reborn. Resurrected. And lives today.
In a world that rarely makes sense, where hope is elusive, I have built my life on that foundation. I met a Savior who conquered death–and walks beside me in life. Even when I’m in the darkness of Friday, I know that Sunday is coming. He is my hope for today…and tomorrow.
As we celebrate holy week, may you be equally confident in the foundation on which you are building your life.
He is Risen! He is hope. Happy Easter!