Finding The Courage To Hope

I won a literary award in my senior year of undergraduate work, bestowed upon me by the English department for a paper I did on John Updike's "Rabbit" novels.  

It came with a $ 1,500 check and a certificate, which was pretty sweet because I was struggling financially. 

I had been studying that semester with one of the preeminent Updike experts in the world, and we read just about everything that Updike had written.  The "Rabbit" novels captured my imagination because they were filled with so much angst, melancholy, and despair. 

But there was also a spark of hope within them, buried beneath the malaise, and that's what I wrote about.  The main character was an antihero of sorts, filled with dread, longing, and a resignation that nothing seemed to improve with every passing year of life. 

And yet, there was something that kept him going, a glimmer of hope for the future that persisted.   

There's a line from Updike that goes like this: “The world keeps ending, but new people too dumb to know it keep showing up as if the fun's just started.” 

At first glance, this incredible sentence drips with irony—an almost cynical acknowledgment of the repeated cycles of chaos, destruction, and endings that seem to define human history. I must admit, I rather like that. I have a dark side, sue me. 

Yet hidden in its irony is a strange truth: even in the midst of endings, life goes on. People still show up, new beginnings still arise, and hope stubbornly refuses to die.

Scripture affirms this paradox. Israel knew what it meant for the world to feel like it was ending. When Jerusalem fell and the people were carried into exile, it must have seemed like the final chapter had been written. 

Yet in that season, the prophet Jeremiah dared to write God’s words of hope: “For I know the plans I have for you… plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope” (Jeremiah 29:11).

The Apostle Paul echoes this resilient hope when he reminds us, “We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair” (2 Corinthians 4:8). 

Paul does not deny the suffering or the weight of endings—he acknowledges them fully. But he also insists that these endings are not the final word. God’s purposes stretch beyond our crumbling moments, pulling us toward resurrection, toward life renewed.

Hope, then, is not naïve denial. It is not pretending that everything is fine. It is courage—the deep trust that God is still writing the story even when the world around us seems to be unraveling. 

Hope is believing that even when our strength is gone, God’s Spirit can breathe new life into us, just as He raised dry bones in Ezekiel’s vision (Ezekiel 37).

So when your world feels like it’s falling apart, dare to hope. Dare to believe that God is not finished yet. The “fun” Updike mentions is not frivolity, but the stubborn joy that faith calls us into—the joy of knowing that even now, God’s mercies are new every morning (Lamentations 3:22–23).

Prayer
God of new beginnings, when everything feels like it is crumbling, help me trust in Your promises. Give me the courage to hope, the strength to believe, and the peace to rest in Your ultimate purposes. Amen.

Reflection Questions

1. When have you felt like your world was ending, and how did God meet you in that season?

2. What does hope look like in your life right now?

3. How can you remind yourself daily that God’s purposes are bigger than your current struggles?