Hope

Today I had an interesting take on church.

Anyone going through fertility trouble will agree with me: December church is tough. There is much talk about hope and the whole season revolves around the coming of a baby. It's immensely strange to be able to relate SO much to the weary Israelite community as they longed for their Messiah, their baby king. I feel the strain of their hope.

As I was explaining to my husband today, I'm not as much baby obsessed as I am hope obsessed. There is a hairline of a difference, but it's an important distinction to make. If I was told tomorrow that I as unable to have more children, I would go through a process of grieving and then I would move on with life. But since there is such a large unknown which looms above my head, my only option is to hope. Like I said, it's a hairline distinction.

As I was sitting somewhat uncomfortably in the pew today trying desperately not to focus on myself, I wondered if this season is difficult for anyone else. I thought of cancer patients. Would hope be difficult for them to carry? What about unemployed people? Divorced people? Homeless? What about people who simply feel caught in a rut of life and don't know how to wake up and live every morning? How do they own hope?

I don't have an answer that fits neatly in a blog posting. For me, defining hope is like nailing down jello.
Hope is longing for something which is currently invisible.
It is striving towards the unknown and doing so as if it WAS known.
Hope is simultaneously fuzzy and solid.
Hope is passive and aggressive in the same breath.
You can't hold it in your hands, only with your heart and mind.
And when one finally attains what one has hoped for, hope vanishes; it's mission has been accomplished.

Today as I sat in church, I allowed myself to feel the hope in that great sanctuary. It stung a good deal at first. But the choir sang with great might and enthusiasm. The readers spoke their lines carefully, allowing the fullness of their words to penetrate. And the pastor's benediction was given with renewed vigor.

I left knowing a sense of hope, whatever it is.