There are some days that it’s easy to just sink into the pit of suckage.
Things happen. People walk away. Plans fall through. We mess up.
And then that overwhelming, suffocating feeling of loneliness, messiness and unworthiness takes over and we begin to believe the lie that even hope of getting it right is stupid—that maybe the problem really is just us and clinging to the hope of figuring things out or feeling like we’re really ever going to find what we’re looking for in this life (in any capacity) is foolish.
We tend to focus in on all the things we’ve screwed up, and all the things it seems we continue to screw up. All the things we’ve done wrong and all the wreckage of our lives as a result of those things.
We accept the invite to our own personal pity bash; party of one, and we sit there. Sad. Dejected. Rejected. Empty (and depending on the time of month for some of us, quite possibly hormonal.)
We start to believe that just because the patterns are looking similar and we continue to find ourselves in situations where we are not chosen by someone else, it means that we’re not worth choosing. That maybe there is something inherently wrong inside of us because if we were worth it, they’d have fought for us.
If we were good, we wouldn’t be in this situation.
If we were stronger, we wouldn’t be struggling with this same sh*t.
Whatever the “sh*t” is for you, we all have it; and when the “sh*t” hits the fan, all the usual lying suspects come flooding in when we’re weak.
Then this little thing rises up in me. This little thing that God so graciously placed in my heart when he made me.
I call it stubborn hope.
The damage of the past can be all encompassing. The lies we believe about ourselves as a result of those who hurt us before can be suffocating and paralyzing.
Here’s the thing though; we have a choice to make.
We can either choose to allow our fear of failure or being hurt to take over and keep us from pursuing all the things we want in life—or we can have some stubborn hope and go for it anyway.
We can stubbornly and tenaciously chase after hope and choose to believe that just because this thing didn’t work out doesn’t mean the next thing won’t. We can choose to believe that just because so and so from our past hurt us doesn’t mean the next one will do the same. We can rise up against those old tired weights from our history and fight for hope despite it all.
Maybe that feels foolish. Maybe the repeated failures in certain areas of your life make it feel impossible to keep trying.
Maybe you’ve just been hurt too many times and it feels like putting your heart out there again just simply isn’t worth it.
Maybe you’ve fallen so many times that you’re just honestly too embarrassed to try it one more time.
Maybe you’re right.
But maybe you’re wrong, too.
Maybe, instead of shutting down and giving up on that thing you wanted because you’re scared, you’re supposed to fight for it. Maybe you’re supposed to push through your fear and do it anyway.
Maybe you’re supposed to use your past as a lesson and move forward smarter, not slower.
Maybe it’s OK to hope. To try. To risk your heart and even get crushed a few times. Maybe it’s OK to fall and look foolish and be the one that tried anyway.
Maybe stubborn hope is keeping you alive.
Today, I choose stubborn hope.
I choose to believe that everything happens for a reason -a good reason- even if that reason isn’t what I originally thought it was.
I choose to believe that I am on the right path, even on the days it hurts. Even on the days I feel like I’m doing everything wrong, today I choose to believe I’m still right where I’m supposed to be.
I choose to believe I am worthy and that someday, the right person will see that too, and it will all make sense.
I choose to believe that all my mistakes hold value and with each one, I am becoming better.
I choose to believe that I am enough, just as I am—all messy and flawed and frayed. And I choose to stop choosing things and people that don’t choose me back.
You don’t have to wait until everything is perfect to show up with a handful of hope, and even if you place your hope in something that can’t hold it, it isn’t foolish to scoop it back up and try again. Hanging onto a little stubborn hope may just be the very thing that gets you everything you’ve ever wanted.
So here’s to stubborn hope, friends. Even when it doesn’t make sense, there’s always hope.
Author: Rachael Boley
Editor: Erin Lawson