Bastard Hope

Through exploring the depths of sadness and heartbreak, confronting the demons and lies about myself, and being continually in the midst of the tension between faith and doubt - one thing seems to remain: Hope.

Hope is what drives me to believe that that 'the last word has not been spoken' for myself, for my friends, for my community and for this world.

Like life itself, my hope shifts and flows. Often the hope that drives me is more for all that is around me than it is for myself.  Which breeds a health and unhealth, depending on the season.In my unhealth, my hope is placed in things that are good yet aren't right.  Justification can be made for these things, fighting the good fight honorably to show their goodness and value - yet eventually, these things fade. Feelings change and distance grows.In a recent moment of deep struggle and doubt, I texted a supportive friend:

Hope is a bastard when it's put in the wrong things.

Now I know the word bastard carries with it a tremendous amount of weight - for it is a term that has been placed on individuals worth and wrongly names them. Yet, I am drawn to use this word when it it understood as the following:

bastard - adj. - Not genuine; spurious. Resembling a known kind or species but not truly such.

The hope in some thing greater, the hope in an unfolding narrative bent towards justice, reconciliation and love - these are the true aches that drive us.  Yet, there are things that can resemble the true embodiments of these that in the midst of our story that break us, hurt us, and leave us in a tailspin.

Navigating hope is a difficult task, for the path might seem covered or distant. We must remember, this does not mean the path is not there to be found or followed.

So may we continue to risk finding and walking on the path of hope.