Is There Any Hope?

 "In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." John 1:4-5 [NIV]

Eyes are closed, steam is billowing up into the air because the window is open just a crack, and the frosty air of early morning is dancing with the heat from the water. There is no sound but my heartbeat because I'm completely submerged. 

Image: Public Domain Wikimedia.org

Mornings begin with physical therapy in a tub of hot water while I unkink tight tendons and get my surgical mesh to straighten back out after a night of sleep. I love this little moment of my day. Not because of the pain, obviously, but because it's quiet. With my head at the bottom of a hot bathtub, earplugs in, and warm steaming water all around me, I pray, sometimes hum, plan out the day ahead, make mental lists, and even come up with a blog idea or two. But today, it's just quiet. 

In my head, I can hear Morse code and tap out a little message on the bottom of the bathtub. Yesterday, our Pastor shared the story about the USS S-4 submarine that sank while doing routine maneuvers between buoys just off the coast of Provincetown, MA. During this exercise, the US Coast Guard destroyer "Pauling" was on patrol at about 18 knots and accidentally rammed the S-4, sending her straight to the bottom. 

Immediately, massive efforts were put in place to rescue the crewmen on board. They were running out of air, and what little they had left was quickly filling up with chlorine gas because sea water had flooded the battery compartment and created a deadly chemical reaction. 

Into the water splashed Lt. Fitch. 

A professional Navy diver, Fitch, was sent to the sunken vessel to assess the situation under the surface. His task had been to set up the proper rescue cables, rigging, and safety equipment and begin the dangerous and laborious rescue of the trapped men inside. Having already made initialcontact with the men inside the crumpled boat at the bottom, Fitch stopped mid-task when he heard a question being tapped out against the hull.

"Is there any hope?"

Bringing my head up out of the hot bath water and watching the steam on my skin mix with the cold air from the window, I can't imagine being tasked with answering that question. By this point, Lt. Fitch knew they were not going to be able to get the crew of the S-4 out alive. A massive storm had broken out overhead, and the rescue teams had been ordered to haul back into shore for their own safety.

Image: Public Domain Wikimedia.org

But Fitch did answer. He replied: "There is hope. Everything possible is being done."

Those words must have cost him because, in reality, Fitch knew there wasn't any hope. Again, I can't even begin to wrap my head around the gravity and sheer oppressive magnitude of the situation those men faced.

ALL of them.

And I FEEL that question right now. It weighs down on me as I attempt to get all the water droplets off my skin before the goosebumps inform me that I am cold. I feel the heavy weight of those words as my feet hit bare tile because the bath mat and most of the bathroom have already been boxed up.  And I FEEL that question as I look around at all those boxes, the piles of bubble wrap and tape, and prepare to roll up my sleeves for another day of packing and cleaning. 

There are moments in my life when it's difficult to see that there is hope. Moments like; hubs losing his job, the owner of our rental selling the house after we'd just renewed our lease, the endless question; will my chaotic,  painful, and janky medical journey ever smooth out?...

I tap it out... absent-mindedly... on the bathroom counter. Is there any hope? Do we have a place to go? Will we have a shelter under which to place a Christmas tree this year? Even if it IS just our little Charlie Brown tree with the one red ornament drooping from its single bough?

I've also heard this question posed more frequently of late in public. In the grocery store, at the gas station, at the thrift shop... where I proceed to haul another box of donate-ables; from the yard guy who is losing his business because people can no longer afford to pay someone else to do their grass, from the entrepreneurs who bought up properties thinking they could get a foot into the real estate business and now find themselves scrambling to unload assets because they are no longer really assets, and from people like me - unloading un-necessaries from an overloaded inventory that you are forced to relocate at someone else's behest. 

The song sung by the man before the Waffle House pulls at my heartstrings the most. With the sole possession of an acoustic guitar strapped around him cross-body, he plays for tips because ... he lost his son to the state when his job loss lead to homelessness.

I find my fingers tapping again.

Is there any hope?

Indeed, there IS. 

John reminds us that even in the dark, even when the skies are belting out snow blizzards and the power is out, or we find that we are BACK in the job market while we attempt to support a family, or we are in the hospital AGAIN.... in Jesus, there IS light. In Him, there IS life, and that life is the light of ALL mankind. You, me, EVEYBODY!

Even right now! ...in this unstable and topsy-turvy dark storm - Jesus IS the light. Jesus IS our hope.

Sometimes the tunnel through which we are forced to sludge and grope is so overwhelming, so dark, so demoralizing that the only thing we can do to survive the magnitude of the thing, is focus on the light at the end of it. But we know, because history has proven this a gabillion times if God hadn't already right out PROMISED us... it really doesn't rain every single day, and when we focus on the light that Jesus freely provides .... and keep moving forward - one moment, one prayer at a time .... we WILL get to better terrain. 

For God promised us ... NO darkness can overcome the REAL light. It SHINES in the darkness. No matter how dark it seems to get.

When we can't figure out how we're gonna get through this moment? ...how we're gonna keep the lights on, how we're gonna survive the loss of someone we love, or heal after a trauma? ...how are we gonna get through 2024? Sometimes, we just can't asnswer those questions right now. But we CAN see the hope and focus on THAT. Because we know that while we don't know how things are going to work out? We are EMBRACED by the ONE who does.