Giving hope

Hidden or seen, the need for hope is universal

A few years ago my daughter gave me this painting by Liz Lemon Swindle that depicts Peter and John on Easter morning running to Jesus’ tomb. It is simply entitled, Hope. Without the title, it’s hard to know that hope is the subject the artist is trying to convey. Similarly, many competent people are desperately looking for hope, but because they seem so put together, we are often unaware of their needs.

Hope comes in many forms. Sometimes it takes just a few words from someone else to give hope. Such was the case for me 30 years ago.

My family never went camping. Not once. So, determined to learn basic camping skills, I signed up for a 30-day survival trek in the southern Utah desert—and survival it was! This adventure went far beyond everyday camping. We didn’t even bring tents or sleeping bags, so almost everything about the trip, from drinking and eating out of a tin can to not taking daily showers, 4was foreign and a little scary to me. For those very reasons, however, I chose to participate; I insisted on overcoming my fears.

During the third week of the trek, I was assigned to hike with a group of five other women from point A to point B using only a topographic map as our guide. Unfortunately, I’d never seen a topographic map, which meant I was absolutely no help navigating. The other women seemed to know a little more about trekking in the great outdoors, but their knowledge alone didn’t keep us from daily challenges.

One day was particularly difficult.

The morning began with having to ford a couple of very fast-moving rivers, temporarily losing the all-important topographical map in the current. (We somehow recovered it, but for the remainder of the trip it was split into several pieces.) Initially, we got lost a few times. Later the same day during a dazzling desert rainstorm, complete with thunder and lightning, we scrambled and slid across aptly named “slick rock.” Finally, after finding some fallen logs to sit on, we took a much-needed rest. Tired, wet, cold, and disheartened, I murmured some discouraging words. Instead of commiserating with me, one of my companions responded, “Oh, this isn’t bad. Tonight at the campfire I’ll tell you a story about a really big storm.”

What? Did I hear someone say “campfire?” The very thought of that day finally ending and of sitting by a warm fire was enough to give me hope. At that moment, her words alone were enough to lift my spirits and help me push on. Funny: I don’t remember anything at all about my friend’s storm story, but I distinctly remember her words quieting my inner storm.

As my brother likes to remind me, we should all live by the counsel, “Be kind. Everyone is fighting a hard battle.” In other words, even if we can’t see each other’s rain clouds, life for most of us is stormy. Sometimes just a smile, a gentle touch, or a few kind words can give people sufficient hope until one storm passes.