You can be a person of hope

“This would probably be easier if I was a person of faith.” She’d just described one of those difficult life situations that plague us all, a situation none of us imagined when we fantasized about adulthood. I knew what she was asking for and I also knew that any words I could muster at the end of that long day would not rightly honor the depths for which she was yearning. “Keep moving forward, things will work out,” was all I offered.

I’ve been thinking about it for weeks. I’ve got plenty of religious clichés in my back pocket. Was I really honoring her question by keeping those tucked away or was I cheating her on an invitation?

I could have told her about the dream I had a few years ago: I was standing in a hotel lobby and Jesus (the one and only) walked through the sliding doors. While others reacted in awe I ran. I ran from room to room of the hotel looking under beds to find the scared ones. I coaxed them out, I held their hands, I brought them to him with assurance, “It’s ok! He can’t wait to meet you! He loves you!”

I could have told her about the NPR story that took my breath away. The one where a scientist described the recording devices that are able to pick up a whole world of sounds no human has ever heard, the sounds insects make by vibrating branches to communicate with one another. If there are whole symphonies happening around us, what other imperceptible possibilities must there be!?!

I could have told her about being in junior high, sitting in the sanctuary, listening to the nun presenting to our confirmation class. When the elderly sister spoke of God in the feminine we all shuffled uncomfortably in our seats. As her talk concluded and questions began the first one was obvious, “Why do you call God ‘she’!?!” And like the Grinch’s heart, my mind grew ten sizes that day as she replied, “Why not?”

I could have just told her the truth, “It wouldn’t be easier, but it would be different.” When suffering is framed in a grand, loving narrative it finds comfort. When the chaos of the unknown has a master conductor of unheard symphonies, it finds purpose. When fear is met by a creator beyond the limitations of our very language, it finds love.

Or I could have kept it simple… “Faith means hope – you can be a person of hope. In fact, I think you’re already well on your way.”