If you had told me, at the start of 2021, that by the end of the year I would be living in Korea, I would not have believed you. It was not on my radar at all. In fact, I was struggling with a creeping sense of hopelessness as my long period of job searching continued to be fruitless.
And so, I was annoyed by how basic God’s theme for my year seemed to be, even though it was relevant: Hope.
I wanted something that felt more profound and specific than “hope.” Yet despite my protestations, that theme kept showing up everywhere, repeatedly confirmed. (You’ll remember from my other blogs that one way I know God is speaking is through repetition.)
One Bible verse particularly impacted me. “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” (Romans 15:13)
I couldn’t get past that thought. Yet as beautiful as it would be to live with overflowing hope, I knew that hope wasn’t all warm fuzzies either. Real hope isn’t shallow toxic positivity, just as the real joy the text mentions goes deeper than circumstantial happiness. Sometimes hope is painful and requires true strength. (I think that’s a whole blog post in itself, but I don’t have time to meditate in that direction right now!)
This year, then, allowing myself to hope meant allowing myself to dream. Honestly, there are moments I struggle to dream. (This can be a particular challenge for TCKs, as we know how life can vastly change overnight. So occasionally we can “go with the flow” too much because we feel it’s pointless to dream or plan.) Sometimes it feels easier to deny or kill desire as a self-protective measure, especially if they touch deep, vulnerable places. To acknowledge desire feels scary. Yet it is necessary, to be fully alive.
Besides letting myself dream, allowing myself to hope meant trusting in the character of God -- his kindness, his intimacy, his creativity -- hoping in God, as the Bible puts it. It meant asking Him to guide me into the best path, even when everything seemed obscure and frustrating.
Thus, hope helped me make the leap to Korea. It helped me decide to work with the church again. Hope is steering me through the challenges of building a life and community in a new country.
I can’t claim that I “overflowed with hope” all the time this year. And there are some things I still struggle to hold out hope for. But choosing hope brought me to some beautiful places in 2021.
I’m curious to see what word or theme God will give me for 2022. But whatever comes next, I think that keeping hope alive and meditating on Romans 15:13 will continue to be important guiding tools in my future.
What was your word or theme for 2021? How did it play out?
Do you have a theme for 2022? I'd love to know!
Love this, Lynette. It's so encouraging. That hope verse was my first blog's tagline and holds such special meaning for me. Thank you especially for this part: "Honestly, there are moments I struggle to dream. (This can be a particular challenge for TCKs, as we know how life can vastly change overnight. So occasionally we can “go with the flow” too much because we feel it’s pointless to dream or plan.) Sometimes it feels easier to deny or kill desire as a self-protective measure, especially if they touch deep, vulnerable places. To acknowledge desire feels scary. Yet it is necessary, to be fully alive." I am going to linger some more with this in prayer.