Hope Dies Last

So there's this blogger.  I've mentioned her here before, but not in a couple of years.  Anyway, all you need to know is that she blogs semi-anonymously over at Single Infertile Female as SIF, and I say semi-anonymously because she has a new book that she published herself that's just come out (and I, for one, can't wait to get paid at the end of the month so that I can go buy it!) so people are obviously going to know her real name now because it's printed on her book.

None of that's really all that important, aside from me needing to mention her because she's part of the inspiration for tonight's blog post.  I've been reading her blog for several years now, and last year, after going through trial after trial in her attempts to become a mom, she got a tattoo on her ribcage written backwards so that every time she walked past a mirror, this truth would be a reminder for her.

That phrase?

Hope dies last.

She got this tattoo at a time when the world had beaten her down pretty hard, and she had every reason in the world to give up hope.  But she got this instead, to remind herself every day that there is always room for hope.  And that's what I've been thinking about today.

I had an unusually quick chat with Taylor today, but in that short amount of time, we talked about what it's been like me getting back to school the past couple of days.  I told him about how people, even though I know they have well-meaning intentions, treat me so delicately, like I'm about to break just because I was in the hospital, and how frustrating it can be because, in reality, I'm the same me that I was 10 days ago.

But after he had to get off the phone, it got me to thinking (again) about people constantly seem to be amazed by the fact that I have a positive attitude and am generally pretty joyful about life despite the circumstances in front of me.  My thoughts sort of go back to pity and my aversion to the whole concept because there's really nothing to pity me for.  I don't like people feeling sorry for me, especially when it feels like they're missing all the blessings I see right in front of me every day.

Another common thing I hear from (again, well-meaning) people is that they don't know I can still get up in the morning, how I can still believe that I'm going to be okay and that God is in control so I'm going to be okay.  And after I thought about it, I realized the answer is pretty simple:

I still believe all of those things because I have hope.

Jesus is my hope.  Jesus died so that I could have hope.  Giving up is not an option.  For me, the only option is to keep pursuing the path He's laid out in front of me to glorify Him and tell everyone I meet just how good He really is.

As long as I am alive, I'm going to have hope.  Hope will be what carries me through this broken, wicked, sinful world straight into the arms of my Father in the perfection of the glorious paradise where I get to stay for all eternity.  I have hope because I know that this world is not the end for me.  I think that right there is precisely why I didn't have hope through the years I struggled with depression so greatly; I thought that this world and this life of suffering was all that was left to me.  I had no idea, I couldn't believe or accept that there was an eternity of freedom with no hurt, pain, or sickness waiting for me beyond anything I can see.

God is where I find my hope.  God never changes.  My hope never changes.  I still have hope after all of the these health issues and problems that doctors can't find the answers to because Jesus, my hope, my Savior, is the one constant that I do have.  He is a living Savior that brought to life with Him a kind of hope that, for the longest time, I didn't understand was for people as messed up as I am.

When everything else fails, I have hope.  When everything else is gone, I have hope.  Even if my healing doesn't come this side of heaven, I have hope in the security that it will come when I am in heaven with Jesus.

People want to know how I do what I do, and generally do it with a smile on my face?  This is how.

I have a relationship with Jesus.  Jesus is my hope.  Hope dies last.

Oh and PS?  SIF got her very own miracle in the form of a beautiful baby girl that fell into her lap in a miracle adoption. :)