
“The very least you can do in your life is figure out what you hope for. And the most you can do is live inside that hope.” Barbara Kingsolver
We are halfway through the 2020s, 25% through the 21st century. Startling! This 20s decade has been off to a rough start. The COVID-19 virus that caused a worldwide pandemic dominated the first two years, followed by wars in Ukraine and Israel. Add to that an annual average of over 600 mass shootings for the first four years, an attempt to interrupt the peaceful transfer of power at our capitol, and eight extreme weather events in 2024 that cost the US 500 billion dollars.
So far, I am short on hope. How do I lean into hope for the new year?
Hope differs from optimism. According to social scientist Arthur Brooks, optimism is the belief that things will turn out all right, whereas hope is a conviction that we can act to make things better in some way. Optimism feels good. It comes naturally to many people, but it doesn’t necessarily push me to act. Hope is muscular, it empowers. I imagine a way through and I choose to do something about it. A pessimist can highlight the problems ahead and still be hopeful.
According to author and researcher Brené Brown, hope is a way of thinking, not a feeling. “Hope is a function of struggle—we develop hope not during the easy or comfortable times, but through adversity and discomfort. Hope is forged when our goals, pathways, and agency are tested and when change is actually possible.”
Hopelessness, on the other hand, is a feeling along with its companion despair. Those feelings do not support our well-being. Despair is an arid, empty, dark place. It disempowers and crushes hope.
Hope is infectious. We can catch it from others.Brown, quoting C. R. Snyder from his book Handbook of Hope, says, “We experience hope when (1) we have the ability to set realistic goals. I know where I want to go. (2) We are able to figure out how to achieve those goals including the ability to stay flexible and develop alternative pathways. I know how to get there, I’m persistent, and I can tolerate disappointment and try new paths again and again. (3) We have agency—we believe in ourselves. I can do this!”
I experienced hope when I returned to school 30 years after graduating with my BA degree. I set a goal to get my master’s degree. I framed a plan. I acted on it and accomplished my goal.
Jonas Salk, developer of the Polio vaccine, said, “Hope lies in dreams, in imagination, and in the courage of those who dare to make dreams into reality. “Our country exemplified that sense of hope when we sought a vaccine for the COVID-19 virus. We set a goal, we empowered various research groups to figure out the how. They had the agency to make it happen. We accomplished the goal in a miraculously short amount of time.
The Parisians rebuilt Notre Dame in five years, belying doubters who saw it as a pipe dream. The dreamers made it happen. Ukrainians demonstrated the courage of hope when they responded to Russia’s invasion with determination, choosing to be agents of their destiny.
Hope is infectious. We can catch it from others. Episcopal Bishop Steven Charlton, in his book Ladder to the Light, says, “Hope is not a wish, but an intention…..We each take our turn being the source with what nourishes others.” He goes on to say, “Hope is the catalyst, the tipping point where what we believe becomes what we do.”
Hope is amplified in community. It is easier to pursue and sustain hope when we join together. A member of our church community wanted to expand contributions to the local food shelf by including fresh produce. He shared his enthusiasm with others. Soon a small committee explored developing a garden on church property. In order to maximize their harvest, they hired a consultant to educate them on square foot gardening techniques. Parishioner carpenters built raised beds and installed a watering system. Clear plastic coverings resembling Quonset huts allow planting to begin in early March. As harvesting expanded, parishioners were invited to add to the largesse from their personal gardens. Last year the Giving Garden donated 2,000 pounds of fresh, organic produce to the local food shelf. As a secondary benefit, a community of gardeners formed to plant, maintain, harvest, and celebrate the bounty. This is hope actualized in community.
Many situations challenge my hope. Too often, I do not see a way through on a personal or societal level. For those times I rely on the Serenity Prayer. Not all things are mine to do or to be. I accept the things I cannot change and ask for the wisdom to know which are the things I can. I cannot eliminate fossil fuels but I can drive a hybrid car. I can’t stop the war in Ukraine but I can support the Ukrainian family in my neighborhood. I can’t end homelessness but I can donate to the Dorothy Day Center. Small steps, shared in community, keep me from the abyss of hopelessness.
Looking into the crystal ball of 2025, where can I envision hope?
I meet people choosing hope in every Alanon meeting as they share their stories of fear, sorrow, and despair, only to find a supportive community that understands the struggle that eventually leads to health and freedom.
I see it in students I teach as I engage with them pursuing their dream.
I have hope as I watch the parade of neighbors collecting their children from the local elementary school.
I notice hope when I see families struggle with addiction or divorce or illness and pull together to support new ways of being family.
I find hope seeing roofs of solar panels capturing the sun’s energy.
I share a friend’s hope in the steadfastness of friendship. I believe in the resilience of love.
Where do you find hope? What do you hope for? Let us support each other as we live into our hopes for 2025.
Mary Lou Logsdon is a Spiritual Director in the Twin Cities and an instructor in the Sacred Ground Spiritual Direction program. She can be reached at logsdon.marylou@gmail.com. We may earn a commission via some of the links on this page, at not cost to you.
Last Updated on January 16, 2025