Opening Pandora's Box

Hope. It hit me unexpectedly the other day.

You have to be a pretty good liar to not believe in hope. I guess that makes me a good liar.

Here's why I say that:

Hopelessness happens when you are so able to convince others that you are fine, that you create an absolutely solitary environment for your despair. Hopelessness happens when your sin so overwhelms you, yet you hide it so well, that the only part of yourself that you feel is really yourself -- the self so deep that no one but you knows it -- is your overwhelming sin. Most people cry in private. People cut themselves in private. People commit suicide quite privately. Hopelessness is when you meet your darkest side, and you are too afraid to make it public. Hopelessness is you and your dark side, alone, in private, commiserating with one another.

That's why I believe that my friend who cuts herself has hope. Her secret was discovered. The symptom (her cutting) of deeper issues came to light. It's as though the opening to those deeper issues has been discovered, and now a Pandora's box of darkness, hurt, and pain has been opened, and with it -- hope.

Sometimes I wish there had never been a need for hope. If Eve had never bitten into the beautiful fruit, if first sin had never taken place, if the world had remained young and perfect forever, no one would know what hope even was. After all, what would we hope for?

Other times, I scream with gladness for hope's existence. It's like someone said somewhere: How would we know light, unless it had first broken through the darkness? I have a little black box in my soul -- my own Pandora's box of sin and shame that I keep hidden from everyone I know. I can't seem to let go of it because I'm so busy keeping it covered. I think hope exists inside of those boxes. Hope is released only by opening Pandora's box. Hope happens when my despair encounters the Gospel.

Hope is not victory. Hope is faith in victory. Sergei told me, "Life is a wrestling match. Sometimes we win small victories, sometimes we fail. What counts is not winning every round, but continuing the fight. You might fall a million times, or more. What God asks is not that you never fall, but that you never stop fighting. We know already that the ultimate victory is ours."

That's hope: falling, having to tap out, going to the corner to catch your breath and get a drink of water, and returning to the fight. Hope is confident of victory, without yet seeing it. We know that our Coach is not merely watching from the corner, but is giving us the strength to continue the fight, to love the fight, and ultimately, to see the victory He won and continues to win through us.

Similar to faith, a small mustard seed of hope is all it takes to create light from darkness, beauty from despair. That's what I experienced the other day. In the face of all my repetitive sins and old fears and continuing sense of shame, seeds of hope grew into great spreading trees of faith in Jesus Christ who loves me and gave Himself for me.

I hope that next time, I won't go back to the old sin. I hope that I will be the winner of the next round, in the name of Jesus Christ my Lord. "I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams." I hope.