When Your Hand Gets Weary

Thoughts on keeping hope alive for ourselves and others.

Fragile Hope

The last three and a half years of my life have proven at least one thing for sure: hope feels fragile. At least within the confines of the human experience; hope is like a meager flame vulnerable to extinction by the dark covering of so much - too much.

Weeks and months spent waiting on the Lord reveal this tender hope. We see it in the years spent believing for change without seeing any and in the longing to witness something beautiful spring up from the ashes around us. When we’re desperate for transformation, for help, for something to lift us out of the darkness we’ve dropped into, we’re hoping.

This fragile hope is daily caught up with our soul’s lament as we wrestle with the gap between who we know God to be and what we see before us. 

Hope is beautiful.

It also feels so, so risky.

Living Hope

I love this passage so much: “According to His [God’s] great mercy, He has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead… In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith - more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire - may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 1:3b; 6-7 ESV).

It takes about 20 seconds to read that passage, yet both the flames of hope and the depths of grief we’ll witness in this life may span many months and years. Between each line above sit the moments that bring tears to your eyes, make your heart squeeze with physical pain, and have made you wonder - is this hope worth it? Is God still good?

One thing is for sure: the effort it takes to keep the flame of hope dancing in our souls is beyond our human strength. Your hand will grow weary and may already be growing weary now. Take heart in this, friend - the burden to keep hope alive in your life is not yours to carry all alone.

These last years, my hand has often grown weary of fanning the flame of hope. Yes, I hold hope for our season of infertility to end. But I also hope to see God’s goodness in the land of the living and to experience His presence in every moment of mourning. Even when He’s promised it - my hand grows tired of fighting the covering of doubt, fear, anger, and bitterness that daily threaten to snuff out the flame.

And still:

In the poverty of spirit I’ve come to accept - I am blessed (Matthew 5:3). Praise the Lord for the way His spirit ministers to and sustains us in seasons of indefinite grieving or waiting.

I’ve woken up from desperately dark nights of the soul living proof that His mercies are new every morning and His grace is enough for today. Chances are, if you’re reading this, you have too. 

It’s by God’s grace alone that my testimony is not identified by infertility and depression, but by His transformational love changing me from the inside out in the midst of it.

You may be one walking this road of grief with me. Even if you are not, you know someone who is. We, as the body of believers, get to take turns fanning the flames of hope that light our days. I believe we can take part in the biblical call to carry each other’s burdens by grasping the fan out of a weary hand to do the work for a little bit (Galatians 6:2) and I’m thankful for my Mom’s wisdom in recently identifying that this is what was happening in my life.

After an incredibly discouraging summer, we sat across the table from an older couple in our church and their eyes filled with tears as we shared our most recent disappointment. They listened with compassion and mirrored our pain and then took our hands in theirs to pray. With robust hope and faith, they declared God’s goodness and favor over our bodies and our story at a time when our prayers had grown tired and weary. They took a turn fanning the flame of hope for us.

Weeks later, when we shared our heartache during a staff meeting, our friends and coworkers surrounded us. Hands found our shoulders and heads, oil anointed our foreheads, and the prayers that came forth were nothing short of holy. Life was spoken over us, lies were broken off of us, and for those moments, we were completely covered and the ones we serve alongside in ministry took a turn fanning the flame of hope for us.

Days after that, I shared about the above experiences in a texting conversation with a dear friend. This year, hope has felt fragile and tender all the time, but I told her that I was newly bolstered in hope and filled with faith that God would one day fulfill this desire of ours. She responded with resounding agreement: “It is a question of when. You are absolutely going to be a mother.” I’m astounded that even a text sent from the other side of the country is powerful in the hands of the Father to pick up that fan and encourage the flame.

Mercifully, these are only a few of the encounters I’ve had over this last year. In the process of typing this post, an email just came through from a precious friend reminding me of her faithful prayers for us. Just reading it, I imagined the whoosh of air she sent towards the flame of hope in my heart. This is God’s care embodied and shared among brothers and sisters in Christ. It’s so beautiful.

Though your experiences may look similar to or nothing at all like some of mine - I wanted to share these to show a few different ways the Lord may bring people around you to hold hope for you when it’s so hard to do it yourself. I pray my own testimony might open your eyes even more so that you can see clearly the Lord making Himself known to you. I pray you would be encouraged and revived when He gives you what you need, even if it isn’t all that you have wanted.

This is for you.

Maybe you’re grieved right now by various trials. Maybe you’re walking closely with someone who is. The hope we have in Jesus will never disappoint - but that truth does not minimize the ache of enduring in the “not yet”. If we believe that God’s promises are true, this enduring will be well worth it (see Romans 5:3-5 and believe it with me). In the meantime, I leave you with these two thoughts:

If your hand is weary - I’m with you. In the ways you can - seek and ask for the kind of community that will help you fan the flame. Maybe it’s from a parent, a few trusted friends, a mentor, or a group from church. I know how vulnerable this ask can feel, so please remember God’s grace goes with you in the process. As you pray and ask - keep your eyes wide open to all the ways God may show up for you. He promises He will.

If you know someone who’s weary - BE the one they’re seeking. It’s as simple and powerful as asking the Lord everyday how you can show up for them. Fanning the flame will likely look different from person to person. You have the precious opportunity to partner with what the Holy Spirit is already doing in their lives by encouraging hope in just the way they need it. Ask the One who walks with them daily to show you what that is.

Here’s to the abundant joy ahead and the warmth on your face as hope flickers alive and well today and everyday after.