The Story of Hope and Heartbreak

I want to believe in miracles. 

I want to believe that crazy, unexplainable things are possible.  I want to believe that sometimes, life is so good that you want to laugh and cry and scream and sing all at once.  I want to believe that everything can change in a single moment and one day you will realize this is why.  This is why I love this place.  This is why my heart was broken. This is why I’ve waited.  This, right here.  I want to believe what Victor Frankl says about redemption—that while bad experiences cannot be erased, they can be redeemed. 

But not every moment is this moment.  Sometimes moments bring the painful, lonely realization that you were wrong once again.  The relationship that seemed so meant-to-be because of a million coincidences is spinning its wheels, and you’re wondering why you even bothered to listen to love songs and daydream and tell your best friends about it and nurture a little bit of hope.  The life you wanted, the place you wanted to be once again proved itself to be the product of an overactive imagination. 

When everything unravels, the hope of a this is why moment just seems shallow and idealistic.  My silly little plans fell apart, and I don’t even have the right to cry about it. 

I think that sometimes I need these silly little plans, though, because they give me a little bit of hope that maybe someday I will move forward.  Someday after all of this searching I will find what I’m looking for.  Someday I will be able to say I’m glad things went the way they did, because they brought me here. 

It’s hard to live in the tension between pessimism and hope, between don’t get your hopes up and anything can happen.  I desperately want to believe that amazing, God-inspired, life-changing events can happen.  I want to say that not every story has a sad ending.  I want to believe that some things are more than coincidences, and falling in love isn’t always a mistake.  I need to believe in God’s goodness, or I will lose everything. 

But in the mean time, it’s hard to be here.  It’s hard to know the past but not the future, to have lived one story and to believe another, to walk the tight rope between life-giving hope and unrealistic expectations. 

And so I pray that I won’t lose this hope.  I pray that I will have the wisdom that comes from experience, but that I won’t see every new possibility through the jaded lens of the past.  I pray that I will keep believing in miracles, even though I don’t see them today. 

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2 thoughts on “The Story of Hope and Heartbreak

  1. Once again, thank you for writing this. Thank you for being vulnerable. Thank you for questioning. You are breathing life, once again, & I am a humbled heir of it.

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