Grief & Hope

How might you anchor yourself with others in order to create a vision together?

Hebrews 11:1

Now faith is the assurance[a] of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.

I imagine most of us are facing challenges that feel beyond us, in everyday life and in the world at large. In the words of my video-gaming teens, I feel underleveled for what lays ahead.

What future can I imagine? How would I even begin to vision and dream? All of the possible outcomes feel weighed down by limits and compromises.

No one ever prepared me for how much grief is intertwined with hope.

What would a loving future look like? What is an ecosystem of kindness and care? What if humanity saw the image of God in each other?

I have to mourn because the kind of world we need feels totally unseen. I see cruelty and horrors all around. I am finding that I have to weep and grieve all the ways that what we need does not exist. In fact, it feels so far from existing that it seems preposterous.

But then I also have to look around and find microcosms of hope. I see the way my dog is loyal and caring. I see the way my closest friends love and hold me. I see the way I have learned to trust my body and myself.

What about the world or life are you needing to grieve? Where do you see microcosms of hope; how might you anchor yourself with others in order to create a vision together?

— Theo Isoz