Hope.

What stirs in your heart when you read that word?

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

Back in 2015, days before Christmas, my father-in-law drove me, my wife and my mother-in-law back home after a wonderful evening of dinner. Around the same time that evening, a young lady drove the opposite direction on the same highway as us, while under heavy drug influence. Driving at least 45 miles per hour, likely more, she hit our car head on.

Miraculously, somehow, no one in our car was terminally injured. My mother-in-law got the worst of it and she needed to be in rehab for a year unfortunately. But to this day, I cannot believe that my Pop, my wife and myself were able to walk on our own that evening.

Six years after that accident, I find myself wondering about this idea of hope. I don’t need to know much about your story and I also don’t need to elaborate on the craziness that we’re still going through in these pandemic times, but I’m willing to bet you have wrestled with hope too.

Michael Neill, one of my teachers I’ve had the pleasure of learning from as a coach said this about hope:

“Hope is the magic elixir that energizes dreams, fuels possibilities, and pushes you to live beyond the limits of your habitual thinking. It’s not a promise that something you want will happen. It’s an invitation to enjoy the possibility of what you want, while you and life negotiate the eventual outcome.”

I’m writing my last missive of the year before I take a hiatus. I’ll be back some time early next year but for now, this is what I’d like to leave you with.

Hope.

Christmas is almost over and I’m writing this on my phone in my son’s bedroom. There’s a lot of unknown in the future, but as I sit here with him falling asleep, I reflect on all the miracles in my life that brought me here.

Not necessarily all the obvious ones like that head on collision.

But the tiny subtle ones.

Like the fact that all four of us in my household have Covid, but the symptoms are mild enough so we can enjoy Christmas.

Or how I almost lost the chance of being with my wife in my mid-20s but for some reason, the first therapist I met with actually worked out.  That never happens.

Or my kids. They are my tiny miracles everyday.

There’s nothing fancy or poetic in how I want to write this last #sundaykindofblog in 2021.

All I want to offer is hope.

There is hope in the midst of our grieving. There is hope in the midst of sorrow. Go deep into your suffering and you will find it.

I want to offer hope so you and I can both find each other on the other side.

Before you move forward into 2022, may you reflect back and realize that there is something unknowable, something inexplicable, that’s always sustained you.

And it’s sustaining you still.

The more you touch that space, the more you can enjoy the possibilities of what you want and be in full pursuit. Without holding back. And while you negotiate the outcomes with life, may hope be with you every step of the way.

Thank you for journeying with me this year.

Goodbye for now.

Till we meet again next year.

Fiercely loving you,

Jomar

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