The Oxford Dictionary defines hope as a feeling of expectation for a certain thing to happen. A feeling of trust. This expectation and trust come not from the confidence of seeing or from proof. No, instead they come from an assurance that is not tangible. Sometimes it isn’t even sensible.

But hope, by definition, must come from a place of need…of being without.

Hope comes from a place of absence.

Two months ago, I thought that, though not always as strong as I would have liked, I had hope and held tightly to the promises of the Bible.

I thought that when called out of the boat, I wouldn’t just walk on the water to Jesus, I would run.

But when an unexpected event happened, honestly, I sank.  And though in theory I should be able to rebound from this, I am having trouble.

My trouble isn’t with faith in my God. My trouble is with myself and what feels like my failure to live out that faith.

I’m not telling you this because I need reassurance that mistakes happen, and it is a normal part of our walk with Christ. I know that this is true.

I am telling you this because it rocked the core of my faith so much so that I would be arrogant and careless if I did not investigate why. I would be arrogant and careless if I did not examine and make sure that my life isn’t built on sand and that my High Places aren’t still standing.

And to be honest, I don’t think I am alone. I believe that most people, when faced with a situation that is completely out of their control, will have at least a tremor of their faith, if not an earthquake.

And what I’ve discovered is that when that happens, we tend to do one of three things.

First, we can walk away from our faith. I know people that have done this. When their belief was tested by circumstance, they counted their losses and left.

Second, some choose to ignore the rumble and continue with business as usual. They don’t take the time to see if there might be faulty thinking on their part, or perhaps an opportunity for growth.

The third choice is instead of fleeing away or fleeing to the sand to stick your head in it, you stay in that horribly uncomfortable space and fight.

I’m not taking about fighting to find the HOPE that is promised. That is His to give.

I’m talking about fighting to pry open our tightly clenched fists and empty them of anything other than Him.

I am talking about fighting against my own flesh and the powers of this world in order to cling to His promise of hope when it requires me to let go of my sense of control.

And hope always requires us to let go.

Letting go of my security, power, wealth, health, and family.

Letting go of my safety, freedom, comfort, privacy, and privilege.

Letting go of anything other than Him.

Notice I am saying...Letting go. It isn't just being willing to let go. Because what that really means is…I will keep holding on and try really hard to be okay if You take them away from me.

No, it is letting go. We must be in a state of inadequacy to have hope.

And it is there that we find contentment in every circumstance.

It is there that we find HOPE.

I’m fighting to free up the space in my life to accept the Hope He gives. 

I'm fighting to let go and trust that He is enough.