I Have This Hope

A couple months ago, we took mydaughter to the movie theater to see The Lion King remake. It was very nostalgic for me and myparents because The Lion King was my first movie to see in theaters as a child.I was so excited, and from the moment the sun rose on the screen, I was hooked.The Lion King has always been my favorite Disney movie,and I was thrilled with the actors and music in this new version!

But when the ravine scene arrived, I started getting anxious. I wasalready so attached to this new Mufasa, I didn’t want him to die. I keptthinking, maybe in this version, he’ll be okay. What a crazy thought! Therewould be no Lion King without that terrible scene. Simba wouldn’t be who he waswithout that pivotal life moment. There would be no “Hakuna Matata,” no “Canyou feel the love tonight?” and not even a “Circle of Life: Reprise” withoutthis heartbreaking scene. The movie writers twenty-five years ago wrote thistragedy into the life of Simba for a purpose. His story wouldn’t have been ablockbuster hit without it.

God brought back that memory to my mind last month, as my husband and I faced the greatest heartbreak of our lives. In October, we found out that I had a miscarriage. It’s something that I know is so prevalent, but I never thought it would be part of my story. Why did our family have to go through this? Why did God write this suffering into my story?

In the midst of my grief, I was trying to find the purpose in mysuffering. I thought the answers to those questions would bring me hope. If Iknew immediately what my Hakuna Matata song would be, then maybe the painwouldn’t be so bad. If this moment could neatly fit into a movie climax, then Icould have a “reprise” to look forward to.

God of All Comfort

But God doesn’t give us the final scenes of our story. I may never knowwhy God chose to let us only have a few short weeks with our second child. Myconsolation is not knowing the meaning of this pain but knowing that God ishere with me in the midst of it. I only know one reason why God allowed thistragedy to hit our family, and that is to draw us closer to him.

My consolation is not knowing the meaning of this pain but knowing that God is here with me in the midst of it.

When Paul speaks of his sufferings (which go far beyond what I canimagine), he praises God for being “the Father of mercies and God of allcomfort, who comforts us in all our affliction” (2 Corinthians 1:3-4). Wecannot fully experience the mercy and comfort of God if we do not suffer. “Foras we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ we shareabundantly in comfort too” (2 Corinthians 1:5).

Living Hope

As sweet family and friends tried to point my hope to a futurepregnancy or adoption, I knew that those were uncertain hopes. There is noguarantee of those good things (though we pray that God will bless us withthose gifts). The Christian hope is not “fingers-crossed,” anxiously hopingthat some cosmic karma will bring a rainbow after a storm. Those platitudesbring empty hope, but we have “a living hope through the resurrection of JesusChrist from the dead” (1 Peter 1:3). Peter continues, “In this you rejoice,though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by varioustrials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith … may be found to resultin praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ” (1 Peter1:6-7). We rejoice not because we have an earthly reward for our suffering butbecause we have an eternal reward waiting for us—Christ Jesus himself!

We rejoice not because we have an earthly reward for our suffering but because we have an eternal reward waiting for us—Christ Jesus himself!

My hope is found in the God who is with me. My mom and sisters made mea Spotify playlist to encourage me during this season of grief, and each songpoints me back to the hope found in our relationship with Christ. “I can’t stopthinking about your goodness. I remember you have always been faithful to me” (“Remember,”Lauren Daigle). “My anchor, forever, You're the rock I stand on here within thestruggle” (“My Anchor,” Christy Nockels). “I didn't know I'd find you here, inthe middle of my deepest fear, but you were drawing near, you were overwhelmingme with peace” (“Find You Here,” Ellie Holcomb).

God with Us

As we come upon the Christmas season, that truth of God’s presence isbrought to the forefront as we celebrate Christ’s birth—Emmanuel, God with us. Fromour perspective, it would seem like a horrible turn in God’s story: the divine Creatorof the universe humbles himself, puts on human flesh, and enters the world in abarn. He lives a meek life, rejected by his own family and hometown,misunderstood by his closest friends and disciples, and persecuted by those whoclaim to know God. The story of God’s Messiah seems to go terribly wrong whenhe is beaten, mocked, and scorned. He is hung on a cross to die the mostexcruciating and embarrassing death possible. He cries out “My God, my God, whyhave you forsaken me?”

Yet God used the most infamous moment of suffering to bring us to himself. Christ’s death tore the veil of separation between God and man, allowing us to truly fellowship with him. In Peter’s first sermon, he preached, “This Jesus, delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God, you crucified and killed by the hands of lawless men. God raised him up, loosing the pangs of death” (Acts 2:23-24). God used the temporal yet horrific suffering of Christ to bring about humanity’s redemption, freeing us from the pangs of death.

God used the temporal yet horrific suffering of Christ to bring about humanity’s redemption, freeing us from the pangs of death.

There would be no Good News without the death of Christ. Jesus could not be our Savior if he only lived and ascended. There would be no freedom from sin and death, no communion with God, no hope of eternal life without Christ's suffering. Like Mufasa’s death in the ravine changed the course of Simba’s story, Christ’s death has changed the story of humanity. Christ’s suffering has purpose, and that purpose is life.

So while I will grieve the life I never held in my arms, I will at the same time live in hope because I am held by God himself. I will “consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us” (Romans 8:18). And I pray that while my suffering has eternal purpose, I will look for ways that I can “comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which [I myself am] comforted by God” (2 Corinthians 3:4).

So while I will grieve the life I never held in my arms, I will at the same time live in hope because I am held by God himself.

“I have this hope in the depth of my soul, in the flood or the fire, you're with me and You won't let go” (“I Have This Hope,” Tenth Avenue North).