I didn’t expect to lose the will to live. That was something for quitters, those who were chronically negative or weak. From my earliest memories, I’ve always been a fighter. Determined, optimistic, stubborn to a fault. Quitting wasn’t an option.
Until it seemed the only option I had left.
It took twenty years of consecutive, unrelenting losses for me to finally lose my will to fight. Betrayal, divorce, single motherhood. Remarriage, step-parenting, and adolescent parenting, followed by fostering and parenting three kids from severe trauma. Then came the three cancer diagnoses in the span of five years — bam, bam, and BAM. And in the middle of that I buried my dad after his thirteen-month war against terminal pancreatic cancer.
And those were just the “big” losses. There were other struggles that were less sensational but no less painful. Like a Weeble Wobble, I’d always been able to bounce back from a challenge. But after the third cancer diagnosis — the one that left me with a permanent disability and in chronic pain — I lost my bounce. Instead, I wanted to go to sleep and never wake up again. Any hope I’d once had was gone.
There’s a verse in Romans 5 that talks about the power of hope:
And not only this, but we also celebrate in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us (vv. 3-5 NASB).
And hope does not disappoint, the God-inspired Scripture says.
And yet I remember reading those words and immediately feeling a surge of resistance. And white-hot anger.
That’s not true! I wanted to scream. Hope does disappoint!
I’d prayed for relief and deliverance for so many years. And yet, in spite of my bent knees and dogged hope, the only answer it seemed I’d receive was more suffering. More loss. More grief and tears. Disappointment was an ocean, and I was drowning in it. I battled to keep my faith afloat, to believe in a good and loving and powerful God. And yet that belief only seemed to leave me weary and desperate for rescue.
Where was the God of hope? Where was the one who said He loved me and would always be with me? Didn’t my relentless grief confirm His absence — or at least His disregard?
Somewhere in the midst of those hard years, I went to the mailbox and found a gift parcel. I didn’t recognize the return address. Inside was a short letter from a total stranger along with an olive wood cross small enough to fit in the palm of my hand. In the following months and years, I found myself holding on to that cross and rubbing its smooth surface when the worst of the losses threatened to take me under. Something about its tangible presence brought comfort.
Then, during Easter one year, I finally understood why. Although I’d long celebrated Jesus’s resurrection, it was Jesus’s suffering that gave me hope.
Jesus knew what it was like to endure pain and loss. He knew what it was like to ask God for relief and deliverance and not receive it. For so much of my faith journey, I’d viewed Easter through the joy of Jesus’s resurrection. But now I saw it through the eyes of His suffering and crucifixion. Jesus knew both physical pain and spiritual agony. He felt the seeming distance of the Father, who didn’t intervene and spare Him the cross.
And yet Jesus didn’t lose hope.
Why?
Because His hope wasn’t in an outcome. His hope was in a Person.
Remember your word to your servant, for you have given me hope. My comfort in my suffering is this: Your promise preserves my life.
Psalm 119:49-50 (NIV)
Your promise preserves my life, the psalmist wrote. Not God’s promise of happily ever after. Not God’s promise of physical healing or a perfect family or pain-free existence.
But God’s promise of Himself.
Jesus is God’s promise fulfilled, divine presence in human flesh. And heaven — the hope of an eternal, pain-free promised land — is the final piece of that promise, when I will live in the hope-filling presence of my Father God forever.
It’s now been almost six years since that season of suffering nearly took me under. I’ve had more hard days than I can count. Life continues to have unexpected circumstances and painful losses. Sure, I have plenty of good days too, and I celebrate those. But life remains hard for so many of us.
Still, as I look at my olive wood cross, more worn than it was six years ago, I remind myself again and again:
If I place my hope in an outcome — a prayer I want answered or a healing I want delivered — I will end up disappointed. “You will have suffering in this world,” Jesus says (John 16:33). That’s the bad news in no uncertain terms. None of us will escape the pain of the human condition. It’s part of the deal.
However, Jesus didn’t end with the bad news. “But take heart! I have overcome the world,” He promises (John 16:33).
Jesus — the flesh-and-blood presence of God Himself — is our good news. He is our hope, our answered prayer to all prayers. And if our hope rests in Him alone, we will not be disappointed. Our hope is as sure as His resurrection, our eternity as perfect as His promise. One way or the other, my friends, the best is yet to come.
This story was written by Michele Cushatt, and published in the Create in Me a Heart of Hope Bible Study.
Create in Me a Heart of Hope is an (in)courage Bible study, written by Mary Carver and featuring stories from your favorite (in)courage writers! The first in a series of four studies, Heart of Hope looks at how God offers us hope — real, certain, unshakable hope. We believe that looking at where that hope comes from and what it looks like in our lives will help us understand first, what hope is, and second, the difference it makes. It will allow God to create in us a heart of hope. Create in Me a Heart of Hope is now available wherever books are sold. Order your copy today!
And as we journey through April, the National Month of Hope, take a moment to explore these favorite resources from DaySpring that will help you live and share a confident hope in Jesus.
Thank you for such honesty. It means more than you could possibly know.
Thank you for your transparency about your battles and shining a light on how, through Christ
we are created to build unfailing strength to become a hope filled person.
Thank you for this post, It is beautifully written and so relevant to our human struggles. I am sorry for your years of grief and physical illness – so hard when we are on the island of grief, so isolating. I know my faith gives me the ability to keep on keeping on when i just want to disappear. God’s grace has carried me through the darkest, most painful days of my life. I am so grateful for my faith.
Hold onto that little wooden cross!
Oh Michele, thank you for sharing and for putting words to the last 5 years for me. I received a cancer diagnosis, lost my beloved brother, uncle and niece, taking care of my mom with dementia at home, my dad’s 8-month battle with a blood infection, all while trying to work full time, and now we have to sell something that’s been in our family for decades so we can find a place to care for my mom because to my great shame we just can’t anymore. I struggle mightily with anger and depression under this weight. But I am thankful that God has met me in my suffering. The difficulty of my situation is still there but I get little signs from God that he’s with me and he sees me, and I’m humbled and grateful. I hope you have had similar signs to help you through your pain. God bless you!
Cheyla, you’ve been through a lot. The struggles are real. There is no shame in needing to move your mom to a place where she can get the care she needs. I had to face that decision also. She was safe and well-cared for, and I was still there caring for her as best I could and loving her always. Praying for you, sister.
I can relate having just lost my earthly father. So grateful for the person of Jesus, his Spirit living in me and the love of my heavenly father. Don’t know how I would cope with the “weeble wobble” otherwise.
I’ve been in conversation with God over the last several days about hope. I’ve let him know that I’m at the end of mine in a particular situation I’ve been praying about for nearly two years now. I don’t feel good about it, but my well of hope is running dry. Having hope at this point feels futile. In my prayer time last night I asked God, again, to show me if I have it right and to help me to stand still until I see his promise fulfilled. I asked for some kind of indication that my hope isn’t in vain. Thank you so much for today’s devotional and speaking God’s word over this situation exactly when I needed it.
Dear Michele, your words are like a balm to my soul! And the fact that you can continue to bless us, even though you are suffering, that’s a priceless gift! Thank you.
Thanks for this — I needed this encouragement. God Bless You
It’s as if you wrote almost everything that I’ve been going through & dealing with for so so many years. And now I’m questioning how much longer I can hang on. I know your daily pain & struggles & the losses it feels like one more thing is going to take you under & you have no more strength to fight it. I find myself here & the desperation & despair is overwhelming. I thought I was putting my hope in both Jesus & the outcome. I now believe I’ve not put all my hope & faith in the right place & completely on Jesus. I have to surrender all. I’m so thankful for this devotional & my prayers are with everyone struggling & hurting. I pray the Lord opens my heart & mind & fills me with His truth & spirit!!! God bless
Dearest Michele, mere words cannot express my gratitude to you for sharing all you did this morning. I am 77 and have suffered many seasons of depression and anxiety, a broken hip and femur. But the Lord has healed me! You also reminded me of a little wooden cross that I had that fitted perfectly in my hand that had been given to me. I passed it onto a lady in the hospital when my husband was there going through a very scary procedure. She was going through something similar and we prayed together there. Thank you again dear Michele and may the Lord restore you and bless you more than you can contain!
I carry an olive wood cross as well. It was given to me June 6, 2021 when I was saying goodbye to my wife of 41 years. She was losing her fight with cancer, would be passing from this life to the next in a few hours. Ive carried the cross in my pocket every day since, not as a reminder of her death. That Im as aware of as one of my hnds or feet. Instead I carry it as a reminder of God’s faithfulness, His goodness, that I can trust Him. My ebineezer if you will.
Bruce, that is such a beautiful reminder of hope. Thank you for sharing this piece of your story with us. I’m so sorry for your loss, yet so encouraged by your faith.
Thank you Michele for sharing your heart with us and for being transparent. It helps all of us to hold on to Jesus as we go through one thing after another in this world. Just as Jesus told us “in this world”. I love what the book of Hebrews says about hope; an anchor for our souls. I will be 87 in a few days and beginning at the age of 8 when my father passed away, I have had many losses and disappointments in my life. It’s really hard. However I am grateful for my Lord and Savior who suffered and died for me that when this is over there will be such a party in Heaven with all of my loved ones. Hold on dear sister! I love you!
Michele,
I could feel the anger you expressed when you couldn’t feel God. Going through trials is never easy-especially compound trials. We must remember that Jesus is well acquainted with our pains & anguish. He suffered much for our sakes. We tend to go from Palm Sunday right to Easter. Forgetting to celebrate Maundy Thursday. The day of the last supper with His disciples. Good Friday when He was crucified on the cross. Then comes Saturday when He spends time in Hell & defeats the devil. The fact that He was willing to go to the cross & endure all that pain just.for.me gives me plenty of hope. Hope to know that if he can endure all that suffering then so can I.
Blessings 🙂