Anchored in Eternal Hope: Finding Rest for Weary Souls

Thus says the Lord, "Stand by the way and see and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is, and walk in it; and you will find rest for your souls." -- Jeremiah 6:16

Hope can be a funny, fickle sort of thing. Well, not so much hope itself, but what we put our hope in.

We live in a world where shiny things are always in front of our faces—a click away—and close at hand. We can easily misplace our hope by setting it on things other than where it belongs.

Meanwhile, in our search for the newest, shiniest place to set our hope, someone is observing closely all along. We have an enemy who prides himself on hope-stealing. He knows our weaknesses well, and the book of Peter warns us that he is "prowling around like a roaring lion seeking someone to devour."

He's looking for ways to devour us now, and I would bet that 99% of the time, he wants to start munching on our heads. He locks his unforgiving jaws around our minds and slowly begins the devouring process. He snakes his way into our thoughts, reminiscent of that old serpent talking to Eve way back when, and steals the hope that is rightfully ours.

What is My Hope In?

This hope-stealing enemy climbs into our minds when we're discouraged or weak. He does not play nice and wait for the storm we're in to pass. Unfortunately, our own desires work against us, too. The combination can make placing and keeping hope where it needs to be difficult. No, it's not impossible, but it is challenging, especially when hope is more complicated to hold onto.

When sailing through stormy seas, I like to take a hope inventory. This helps me discover how easily I can shift my gaze from heaven’s gate to the marshland of my earthly dwelling place.

I have been grasping for hope in so many places:

My health, which will most certainly one day fade.

A new home, which will one day be old and decay.

Family, who are only human.

The hope of life returning to "normal"; we are never promised normal.

The hope of sunny days, and it's always bound to rain.

Hoping in Him

It's not that I'm saying we shouldn't enjoy these things in our lives and hope for them; it's just that we stumble when we put our hope in them.

I have made a mistake so many times of putting my hope in places that crumble, and people who are mortal—myself included—and I've been so disappointed.

In our world, there is what seems like non-stop pain and hurt. How many can attest to that right now? Most, I would assume, and often our enemy is close by to point out that God is to blame.

Because of this, it's easy to bring our hope a little closer to our earthly abode, hoping in what we can do, where we can go, and our mortal abilities to make a change. At least we have control this way, right?

When, in reality, our hopeful gaze needs to be turned back to the cross. Hope was wholly guaranteed over 2,000 years ago on an old wooden cross. Bloodstained and burdened, this cross, and more importantly, the man upon it, brought about all the hope we could ever need.

When we neglect our time with the provider of our soul, the giver of our life, we wither on the vine. And again, our enemy is close at hand to remind us why we shouldn't be hoping in him. "Look at the pain," he whispers, "Where is he now?" He sneers. "He's not doing anything to help" is the chorus he sings as we shift our hope from Him to something movable and uncertain.

Where Hope is Found

Thus says the Lord, "Stand by the way and see and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is, and walk in it; and you will find rest for your souls." -- Jeremiah 6:16

When we grasp for that elusive hope creature, we must return to the ancient path, the one where our savior walks—right where Jesus died and rose for us.

True and lasting hope is what Jesus gave the day He rose from the grave.

Real hope came out of the darkest imaginable place: death. And through it, He gave us hope. It is ours. No one—not even that old serpent—can take it.

When we are deeply rooted in God's abundant grace, clinging to the truth He whispers our way, even the enemy's most tempestuous storm and insidious lies can not steal our hope. As it says in Jeremiah; this is where we will find rest for our weary, tired souls.

Questions for Reflection:

1. When you take a hope inventory, be honest; where/what have you placed your hope in?

2. What has God done in the past (or the ancient paths) where you can place your hope for the future?

3. What scripture and character traits of God can you cling to when hope is hard to hold onto?