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Sunday, June 30, 2013

The Darkness of Hope

“Now go write a blog about how possessing a large capacity for hope can be destructive.”

Okay.

We should take a peek at the dark side of hope now and then. A little darkness does the soul good. It is a prickly one. Hope is a bottomless gullet that will slurp us into it’s depths until it consumes everything we were. It is a wicked tar pit that sticks to us and forces us to believe what’s not really there. It can obliterate rational thought and make the strong and the weak equally likely to stumble off the metaphorical cliff and straight into all sorts of very real hell of our own making.

“Really? That’s your view of hope?” you might say.

Oh, there’s much more to it than that, says I.

A poor man looks at the wealth of the world. He hopes that he can attain his share of it. All he needs is money. Money to care for his family. Enough to provide a good home. Money to put his children through school and ensure they have have a good start on life. A little more to be able to treat his wife they way she deserves. Perhaps a little extra to help others that were once like him. He hopes for that day when he can do all the things his heart and mind tell him he could do with just a little money. He goes to the same minimum wage job day after day and he hopes. Then one day he wakes up, he eats his breakfast alone, he prepares for work, and he’s an old man; still working, still poor, still hoping.

A girl loves a boy. He loves her, as well, but it’s different. Not the childish “I love you, but like a...” kind of difference.  She is convenient and familiar to him. He’s used to her. It’s just not deep enough, just not pure enough, and she feels it. There is something vital missing, something wanting, an empty spot that doesn’t fill in right. Something that should be there, but is somewhere else. She fills it with other things. She hopes that love will grow to fill the part that’s missing. She hopes that it will change them. She hopes that, in time, a spark will fill the empty spot and love will work out right. She hopes it will with everything she can muster. Years later, years of hoping, no growth, no change, no spark, the thing that’s missing is still missing. Hope dies and they part.

A young man spends his youth hoping to be a star. He learns guitar and learns first that he must practice. All the time. He hopes that he has the time, that the time will just open up. He goes out with a girl. He watches a movie. He helps his family with all the little things a family needs.  He spends evenings with his dearest friends. He goes to college. He lives his life day by day, hoping that the time will come when he has time. He hopes and the guitar sits in the garage, covered in dust, a small brown spider nesting amongst the strings that rust away waiting for time.

A little girl lies in bed, awake in the earliest morning hour. She hopes her father will come soon to tuck her in and tell her good night. It is long past time, but she hopes. Her eyes burn, from lack of sleep and the effort of holding back the tears, and the churning in her stomach, and trembling in her chest. She clutches the blanket in her tiny hands, pulling it to her face, and she hopes in the dark that soon he will come through the bedroom door. As he always has before. She hopes he will tell her sweet dreams, and kiss her forehead, and tell her he’s always there. But she doesn’t believe. Not now. It’s too late. The hope is not joy, it does not bring anticipation, it doesn’t sooth, it amplifies the fear tenfold that there will be no Daddy tonight.

Hope. How can a simple word that should bring joy and promise be such a detrimental thing?

It’s because hope can not stand alone. Hope without something else is just empty wishing. Hope needs inspiration. Hope needs conviction. Hope needs faith. Most importantly, hope needs love. Hope without love is love without hope. A pointless exercise at best.

A person can’t hope for inspiration, they must be inspired by hope. They can not hope with conviction, they must draw conviction from hope. They can’t hope for faith, they must place faith in hope. They can’t hope to love, they must feel love to have hope.

A large capacity for hope can be be destructive on it’s own. Inspiration, conviction, faith, and love melded with a large capacity for hope is tremendously powerful.  Hope is not result of what we wish. Hope is only the promise. It is up to us to keep it.



At least, I hope so.

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