The End of Hope

Photo by Torsten Dederichs on Unsplash

The end of hope: I know that sounds like a bad thing, but in reality, it will be good.

We who believe in Jesus Christ are people of hope. This is not the kind of hope that guesses or wishes but the kind of hope that knows. It is built upon faith which is built upon the promises of God. Our hope is sure and steadfast. It is real and certain.

We hope for things that we cannot see with our eyes or feel with our fingers; things like heaven, a perfect glorified body, a state of existence that is without sin, where there is no violence, no pain, no grief, no death. We hope and long to be reunited with other believers who have passed away from us and to see the face of Jesus our Savior.

For we were saved in this hope, but hope that is seen is not hope; for why does one still hope for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we eagerly wait for it with perseverance. (Romans 8.24)

It is possible to have peace that comes from hope because we know it will come. To borrow from the blessings of tomorrow is better than borrowing from tomorrow's troubles. That's called worry.

What happens to us when all hope is gone? Well, praise God, that is when everything we ever hoped for will be seen: 

Let's imagine that we are way out on the sea on a small ship in the midst of a great storm. The wind is blowing fiercely, the cold rain is pelting down upon our skin, the waves are rising above our vessel and it is being tossed up, down and sideways. The sky is dark but for the bright lightening which loudly cracks with thunder.

We hope and pray for the dawn and for the end of the violence. We long with expectancy for peace and serenity. In hope, we trust for that state of blessedness which is yet to come. 

And then it comes: a new day of calm, rest, and relief. Now the storm is over, the wind has ceased and the waves have subsided.

In life, as in our story, we live with expectancy for "that day." When "that day" comes, we no longer hope for a state of rest; we enter into it. We see it with our eyes and experience it in our bodies. This is the end of hope, not because we've given up but because hope is no longer needed. Our hope has become substance and we can take that hope, fold it up and put it away. It has been our friend but a better friend has arrived, that for which we always hoped.

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. (Hebrews 11.1)

So, let us one day be prepared to welcome the end of hope, for when all hope is gone the fulfillment and fruition of everything we hoped for will have come.