Hope in the Living God

1 Timothy 4:1-6, 9-10

This week I need to be upfront with you: I'm struggling.

While the Pandemic takes an obvious center stage as to why things are so difficult, other things weigh on me. Since March 2020 I've lost a grandfather, grandmother, and brother and am currently waiting for another relative who has decided to stop chemo treatments for stage 4 lung cancer. These losses are in the broader context of over 5 million people across the planet dying from this disease--over 800,000 of them in our own country. I don't have the spiritual and emotional equipment to even process human loss at that magnitude--but its enormity serves as a depressing backdrop for the losses that have been closer to home.

I also know that I have a mild form of clinical depression that can make itself known at times. When I look around at my community I have a hard time not noticing the forces of social decay, greed, inequality, and xenophobia at work--even in Lakewood. When I pay attention to our country, I begin to feel sick to my stomach wondering how long our democratic approach to government will last. At this point, where ever I look I am met with internal feelings of despair.

So, friends, allow me to tell you this from personal experience--or at least personal conviction: It is ok to not be ok. May you have grace for yourself when times get rough.

I am reminded of the Psalmist's words: "I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint; my heart is like wax; it is melted within my breast; my mouth is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue sticks to my jaws; you lay me in the dust of death." (Psalm 22:14-15 NRSV)

Thank God for the Psalms that gives us sacred language at all of the stages of emotions we might have in the midst of struggle. In the same Psalm, the Psalmist cries: "The poor shall eat and be satisfied; those who seek him shall praise the Lord. May your hearts live forever!" Frequently in the Psalms, joy and despair are close together. And despair turns into joy on the hinge of God's movement in our world.

The sermon this Sunday will be from 1 Timothy, and in it I am finding one phrase leaping out to me, somewhat ironically: "We hope in the living God."

Hope. A generally stubborn and unrealistic thing. I spent some time reading through statements and sermons I wrote when this pandemic first began and I was struck at how much energy I put into being hopeful. Perhaps my struggle is because, at a deep level, it has taken this long since March 2020 for my spiritual tank to get low. And this isn't a tank that gets refilled with vacation or time off, either. I am actually not sure what fills this tank up for me, but I can't avoid the invitation from our passage today. To hope in a living God.

I am looking forward to seeing you this sunday where we will explore Hope, and all of the "deceitful spirits and teachings of demons" that can undermine it! I would appreciate it if you would pray for me, too--that I can turn toward hope this week. We'll get through all of this together!