Hope is an amazing thing. It shines a light on dark times. Helps us see a future that is better than the past. Gives us a reason to wake up in the morning. But it can also be exhausting. In fact, I would argue that the the opposite of hope is not hopeless. The opposite of hope is fatigue.
Tired. Out of gas. Empty.
Hope and fatigue are mortal enemies. Anyone who works around foster kids knows this, but if you’re like me, taking a break doesn’t seem like a good idea.
After all, how will the world survive if I’m not in the middle of running it? But perhaps that is for another conversation.
And yet the truth is, rest is not just a good idea. It’s an absolute necessity. We must intentionally take time to rest, to regenerate, to dream, to create, to heal from the day in and day out beating of living for others, and most of all, to hope again.
Are you tired? Bitter? Losing hope? Take some time to rest, to enjoy life and people and doing nothing that is stressful. You need it. And so do the people you are helping.
“Can I ask you a question, doc?” Something about the tone of her voice made me stop writing and look up. “We have a granddaughter on the way, and the ultrasound shows some kind of heart defect. Can you tell me more about it? Is she going to be OK?” The answer I had for her wasn’t good. One of the worst kinds of heart defects. Could go very badly, very quickly.
Time passed, and the baby came. She was blue, and sick. Months in the intensive care unit. Multiple surgeries. Nights that she shouldn’t have survived, at least according to medical wisdom.
Yet she did. For first steps and birthday parties and the terrible two’s (and three’s).
She is an amazing kid, coming from an amazing family of people who have dedicated their lives to serving abused and neglected kids. But there are still challenges ahead. More surgery. More time in the ICU. She needs your help. Because today, hope has a name. And her name is Haven.
