One chilly fall day in 2004, I stood looking out my living room window, but my mind wasn't on the neighborhood kids playing or the changing leaves. Instead, it was hundreds of miles away, focused on my grandfather, who had called to tell me about his initial home visit with a hospice intake nurse. After another late-night trip to the ER for advanced heart and lung failure that week, the doctor referred him for end-of-life care. Unfortunately, due to his severe hearing loss, my grandfather misunderstood him.

So, when the nurse arrived at his home and explained the services the doctor ordered, he was shocked. He blamed the messenger, summing up his feelings to me this way: "She took away my hope."

Though she had spoken kindly and compassionately, the message he had missed in the hospital was painfully clear now. No medical intervention could prolong his life or fix his health problems. Despite his significant and declining medical issues, he had counted on medical advancements to offer hope. Now, that hope was gone. He felt adrift, and my heart broke for him.

I empathized with my grandfather's feelings of hopelessness in the face of mortality because it’s common for all of us to trust in physical well-being for future hope. I battle discouragement whenever my health seems even slightly threatened. Such is the human condition. We aren't wired for death and dying. How can we feel hopeful when we face the reality of our eventual or imminent demise?

In addition to pinning my hope on good health, I also catch myself basing it on other things that offer no guarantee, like financial security, my abilities, or even other people. Somehow, full bank accounts, meaningful work, or even having family and friends to enjoy make it feel like the future will be bright.

When adverse world events escalate or elections draw near, I notice that I place a lot of hope for the future in politicians despite all of history warning me of my folly. Politicians love to stoke that dream in their campaign slogans, too, as if mere mortals can restore hope to an entire country or world. Only the Son of God could bring about that miracle.

Unfortunately, putting my hope in politicians, health, or anything on Earth leaves me constantly searching for sustenance, like a tired dog foraging on bare city sidewalks for food scraps. When we put our hope in people, things, or circumstances, how do we remain hopeful when our favorite political candidate loses, war breaks out, a marriage fails, people die, or the stock market crashes?

And yet, we must have a source for this vital soul nutrient because hope is critical to our sense of well-being and ability to thrive in the world. Without an expectation of good things to come, we run the risk of falling into despair. We need to pin our hope on something solid, something that doesn’t change, fade, or spoil, but it somehow seems more natural to rely on shifting targets. Simply having something temporal to look forward to, however, is a poor substitute for life-giving, sustaining hope. Despite knowing the difference, I frequently confuse the two.

Now and then, life events create a perfect storm, and suddenly, the tendency to rely on the wrong things for future hope is brutally exposed. In those times when my flimsy hopes are dashed, I’m left floundering, scrambling back to rest in a better hope where I should have been all along. It happened again earlier this year.

Recognizing my folly, seeing it clearly for perhaps the first time, I spent the next several months combing through the Bible to remember precisely what God said about hope. Because that’s where I want to stay, anchored there, not getting tossed off course every time a storm blows through.

The hope-filled things we talk about most often as believers are these: forgiveness of sins, seeing God in the flesh, a restored relationship with God, healing of the Earth and our hearts; no more death, dying, suffering, or tears; unity among all believers; and nature living in harmony with humans.

As incredible and undeserved as these gifts are, sometimes, in the muck and mire of daily life, we need a hope that feels tangible now. My search through the Bible revealed how God makes this possible. Not only because He is with us and enables us to communicate with Him through prayer but because He has given us the Holy Spirit to guide us, comfort us, and teach us in the present. Plus, no matter what happens in life, He works all things together for the good of those who love Him. So, when bad things happen, that truth inspires very real hope. We can also expect, at all times, that He is working in us to bring about fruit like peace, joy, and love. Also, we can feel hopeful excitement that every detail of our lives matters and will not be wasted as God completes His good work in us.

Hope found through faith in Christ is a hope that does not shift with circumstances. It lives whether we experience war or peace, health or sickness, love or loneliness, wealth or poverty. It surpasses all other hopes, and we can hold tightly to it through every season of life, even to death. It isn't fleeting like hoping for a raise, a clean bill of health, somebody to love, or good times. When plans fall apart, relationships rupture, children make bad choices, money evaporates, or age advances – this hope remains. God's offer of hope rescues us from despair and discouragement whether we have succeeded or failed miserably, been lifted by others, or humiliated.

Ultimately, biblical hope is remembering that God will prevail and deliver on His promises. We can live with hope today because He is with those in Christ, preserving our souls, guiding our hearts in truth, renewing our spirits, and leading us home.

I will always be grateful that my grandfather called that day to tell me he felt hopeless because it allowed me to point him to our only trustworthy source of hope. And maybe, with all that is happening in the world today, pointing each other to the source of lasting hope is the best possible thing we can do. Perhaps it’s another of God’s gifts when someone leads us back to His bottomless well of hope after we’ve forgotten where to find it.

A few months after that phone call, I spent my grandfather's last night on Earth with him. Although it was one of the hardest nights of my life, it was also one of the most beautiful because I was with him as he received his reward for putting his hope in God. There was no fear or despair on his face that night - only excited anticipation and expectation of hope fulfilled. 

If this message encourages you, I invite you to subscribe to my blog. I add a new post once per month and send a short newsletter to announce it and share related resources. It's like a little burst of encouragement in your inbox once a month! Subscribe by clicking this link.

ALSO! To bring this message of hope into your daily life and practice, I have shared a prayer calendar you can print out and use. Find the GRATITUDE CALENDAR: 30 DAYS OF HOPE under the RESOURCES tab on my website. I invite you to use the calendar, morning and evening, for the next month to guide you in praising God for the gift of hope!

To learn more about hospice, visit hospicefoundation.org