The Necessity of Hope

A few weeks ago, I met a man. He was in his 50's and ill. Not physically, but spiritually. When he came to the emergency room, the doctor ordered for him to have a CT scan. That's how we met. When you know Christ, it's not difficult to see when someone isn't in need of a physician for the body, but rather a physician for the soul. 

This man lost his son just two months before. I don't know what happened to his wife, but his son died of cancer at age 34. Which was actually a blessing, because he was supposed to die at age 11 - according to the doctors. 

But to a parent, 34 years still isn't enough. 

We live in a broken world, and I was experiencing this man's brokenness. When we got back to his room, he was trying desperately to hold back the tears and I asked him, "Can I give you a hug?" He nodded fervently and reached out his arms as if he hadn't been hugged in years. 

At that moment, I decided that this was why I had come to work that morning. So I pulled up a stool next to his bed and I sat down.

"Do you have a church that you go to?" I asked him.

He looked away as if I'd slapped him and said, "No. I've never been one to believe in that whole 'God' stuff. Look at it this way, if you had kids and they were beating each other with baseball bats, would you let them? Or would you stop them?" 

I didn't really know how to answer him. Of course I would try to stop them. But I knew what he was getting at. The exact brokenness he was experiencing, he wanted to blame God for. I understand. We all have someone we want to blame - we don't want to look at the truth that we brought the brokenness into the world. 

I told him that. But I also told him of the hope in Christ. I told him that God loves him and that because of the brokenness in the world, he sent his own son to die so that we might live. I told him that I wouldn't believe anything other than that which would give me hope. 

And he said, "Why would I need hope?" 

I couldn't believe my ears. I had never heard someone refuse hope. Perhaps I didn't truly understand the depth of this man's suffering that he would deny hope. Of course, how could I? I haven't lost a child. I haven't suffered as some have - as he had. 

But still, I wanted him to believe. I wanted him to understand his need for hope! 

"Everyone needs hope," I told him. "Everyone needs to know the love of God. God loves you and he loves your son." I felt like I was fumbling at words because nothing seemed to get through. I wish now that I would have had more to say. 

I wish I could have told him what Romans says, "In this hope we are saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he has seen?" (Rom 8:24) 

I wish I could have expressed the joy that comes from knowing Christ, the life that is given with knowing Christ. I wish I could have said something to convince him...

...instead, I have to trust that God really is close to the brokenhearted, binding up their wounds, like His Word says. I have to hope that my God is a God who saves. Who restores. Who heals. Who loves unconditionally. 

I asked this man if I could leave the information to the church I attend in case he changed his mind about God. He said I could. I wrote it on a post it and put it on his chair. 

As I turned to walk away, I heard him say, "Could I trouble you for one more hug before you go?" 

I smiled. "Of course." And I leaned in to give him one final hug, praying that he would feel the hope transfer from me into his heart and that the love of Christ would fill him up. 

And I still pray every day, that even if I don't see him in this life time, that somehow, I will get to hug him again when he's standing with me in the glorious heavens at the end of my time here on earth.

 

"The Lord is near to the brokenhearted, he saves those who are crushed in Spirit."

 Psalm 34:18