When We’re Afraid to Hope Again

Exodus 6:6-9, ESV

Say therefore to the people of Israel, ‘I am the Lord, and I will bring you out from under the burdens of the Egyptians, and I will deliver you from slavery to them, and I will redeem you with an outstretched arm and with great acts of judgment. I will take you to be my people, and I will be your God, and you shall know that I am the Lord your God, who has brought you out from under the burdens of the Egyptians. I will bring you into the land that I swore to give to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob. I will give it to you for a possession. I am the Lord.’” Moses spoke thus to the people of Israel, but they did not listen to Moses, because of their broken spirit and harsh slavery.

‭‭Job‬ ‭19‬:‭10,‬ ‭ESV‬‬

He breaks me down on every side, and I am gone, and my hope has he pulled up like a tree.

Isaiah 40:31, NIV

but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.

Sometimes it takes holy defiance to hope again. 

When we’ve been through moments or seasons of great—and/or repeated—disappointment, we can find ourselves afraid to hope again. We can find that we’ve developed a fear of disappointment—and a fear of hope. 

That’s when we have to become defiant—not against hope, but for hope.

Hope is a theme in the life of a righteous person from Genesis to Revelation. But what’s fascinating about the Hebrew word often translated hope in our Bibles, is that it simultaneously means to wait. That’s why some versions translate Isaiah 40:31 to say those who wait on the Lord, while others translate it to say those who hope in the Lord—because both are accurate. Not only are both translations accurate, but the truest meaning of the passage (and so many others like it) isn’t fully understood without both words. Hope and waiting go hand in hand. We don’t hope for something we already have—we hope for what we’re waiting for.

So what do we do when we’re afraid to hope again?

We hope anyway.

Hope is a blessing, a promise, and a command. It’s our spiritual right, our spiritual inheritance, and our spiritual responsibility. Sometimes we don’t want it, because it has let us down from a human standpoint, but we must cling to it anyway. We don’t cling to hope as a thing in and of itself, we cling to hope because it’s directly connected to the God we serve. He’s the God of hope. We don’t hope in a thing or a person or an outcome, we hope in God.

This is the only reason our hope never fails—because our God never fails. 

When we’re afraid to hope, we hope anyway. And God will prove Himself faithful to our hope in Him.