A Call for Hope

“And now abideth faith, hope, love, these three.”

I Corinthians 13:13

Between faith and love stands hope. Not as a feeling, but as a powerful, practiced force that sustains resilience, deepens prayer, and demands presence as a new year begins.

Last month we talked about the impact of having a faith practice. Because it’s not enough to have faith. We must actively practice it.

The same thing is true for hope. Having hope is good but it doesn’t compare to what happens when we have a hope practice.

 Some may think that hope is just another word for optimism or wishful thinking and that it could be dangerous territory if we fall into it as a form of denial.

But that isn’t true hope.

Hope functions as a north star.

True hope is what allows things to endure. It is what shores us up, resisting any kind of collapse as it keeps us standing, even when circumstances don’t cooperate.

Which brings me to why this is such an important topic for us in January.

Yes, January brings many positive things. It’s one of those fresh starts. A turning of the page. A renewal. But it’s also where we must face the other side of January.

January can carry as much planned regret as it does planning. We make promises while we’re already half-convinced we'll abandon them. 

And that’s why we need hope. Hope that remains when certainty is gone and refuses to leave even when outcomes become unclear.

I’ve always been partial to Emily Dickinson’s definition of hope.

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul

And sings the tune without the words

And never stops — at all.

True hope isn’t fragile. And, as Dickinson observed, it never stops. That’s the strength of hope.

I’ve always thought that when she said that she dwelled in possibility that she was really saying that she dwelled in hope.

Because hope always sees what’s possible.

So what does practiced hope actually look like? Here are five ways to build it.

1.      REFRAME: Treat hope as a discipline, not a mood.

 This is the first distinction to recognize. Hope is not a feeling or an emotion. It is a belief. Hope shows up because we return to it, not because circumstances improve.

 Practice: Ask each morning, What would it look like to dwell in hope today?

2.      ROOT: Let prayer be the language of hope.

When prayer becomes a part of how we live and not just something we do, it becomes clear that praying from a place of hope isn’t about negotiation. It’s about trust. Because prayer itself is an act of hope. We can speak into the unknown, trust before we can see, and refuse to allow despair.

Practice: Even if you don’t know what to say to God, show up anyway.

3.      RHYTHM: Choose pace over pressure.

This is where hope becomes livable. Hope doesn’t rush. It doesn’t work within any kind of time boundary. And that is why it can retain such a fluid conversation with us. It sustains what matters by making it livable. And it also allows us to see beyond a deadline to a different kind of horizon.

Practice: Pressure says: transform by February. Pace says: what small thing can I do today that I could still do in July?

4.      REACH: Practice hope collectively, not just privately.

Hope grows stronger when it’s shared.  When we encourage others, we are also encouraging ourselves. When we see possibilities beyond just ourselves, we are spreading the joy of what it means to be hopeful in a world that so needs that today.

Practice: Who are you holding hope with, not just for?

5.      RESILIENCE: Stand again, even without resolution.

I’ve always loved Mondays. They have a lot in common with January, but they happen with more frequency. That’s why they are such a good example for this last thought about having a hope practice.  Mondays always felt like a time that I could stand again. The problems of the previous week might remain with no promise of resolution in the new week, but each time I stood again and tried again, I would get closer to that resolution. Hope lets us stand again without demanding clarity. Hope is the resistance that fosters resilience.

Practice: Today is not a verdict. It’s a place to stand. What is the next step I can take from a place of hope?

One thing is certain, January doesn’t need more promises or perfection.
It needs people with practiced hope who are willing to stay.

Which brings us back to the words where we started.

Between faith and love stands hope. Not as comfort, but as conviction. It is a practiced strength that fuels resilience, deepens prayer, and demands presence as a new year opens.

Let today be a call for hope, not as something we feel, but as something we choose to live.