Are you having trouble keeping hope alive right now?

I'm thinking about hope a lot these days as I face the heartbreak of slowly losing both my parents to dementia, and as I connect with many of you navigating significant transitions. Especially as we witness the gut-wrenching effects of wildfires and hurricanes, war and genocide, political turmoil pressing in from all sides.

Not the casual kind we toss around like confetti—"I hope it doesn't rain" or "I hope the traffic isn't bad."

I mean the deep, soul-sustaining hope that carries us through life's darkest valleys and helps us believe in dawns we can't yet see.

Whether we're caring for needy loved ones, adjusting to an empty nest, reimagining our purpose, facing health challenges, or simply questioning what's next—hope becomes crucial in these threshold moments.

The Anatomy of Hope

Hope, in its truest form, isn't just optimistic thinking or positive affirmations. It's more like an anchor, steadying us when life's waters get choppy.

It's the quiet voice that whispers "not yet" when our weary hearts want to give up. It's the gentle hand at our back, encouraging us to take one more step even when we can't see where the path leads.

Hope isn't something we simply have or don't have. It's a practice we can cultivate, like tending a garden. And just as a garden needs different care in different seasons, our hope requires nurturing in unique ways during life's most challenging times.

Hope has three essential elements: desire for something better, belief in possibility, and courage to take action.

It's not just wishing things were different—wishing is passive. Hope is allowing ourselves to envision a better future while staying grounded in the present moment and taking action to pursue that future.

Think of hope as one of two sisters, as poet Larry Hiller beautifully illustrates:

Faith walks ahead with her lamp, illuminating the next step, while Hope links arms with us, steadying our steps and reminding us of all the ways things have worked out before, even when the path seemed impossible.

When life feels heavy, how do we keep hope alive?

Here are some practices that help:

1. Return to stillness. Like my early morning ritual of watching birds in my garden sanctuary, create small pockets of quiet in your day. Hope often speaks in whispers, and we need stillness to hear it.

2. Connect with something larger than yourself. Whether through prayer, meditation, time in nature, or service to others, connecting with something bigger than our immediate circumstances can reignite our sense of possibility.

3. Remember your story. You've weathered storms before. Take time to reflect on past challenges you've overcome. Let those memories remind you of your resilience. Hope begets hope.

4. Practice presence and notice joy. Hope isn't just about the future—it's also about fully inhabiting this moment. Notice the small, joyful gifts each day brings: morning light on your windowsill, the warmth of your teacup, a friend's unexpected call.

5. Surround yourself with hope carriers. Some people naturally strengthen our hope, while others deplete it. Choose your company wisely, especially during challenging times.

Chan Hellman, PhD, professor, author, and director of The Hope Research Center at the University of Oklahoma, teaches that hope is a social gift—it doesn’t happen in isolation. Our connectedness with each other is the single best predictor of hope.

The Wisdom of Hard Times

One of the gifts of being in the second half of life is our rich storehouse of experience.

We know now that life isn't simple or straightforward. We've learned that joy and sorrow often travel together, that some of our deepest growth has come through our greatest challenges.

This wisdom allows us to hold hope differently than we did in our younger years. We can embrace a more nuanced hope. One that doesn't deny difficulty but chooses to believe in possibility anyway. One that knows darkness and light are both part of the journey.

Sometimes hope looks different than we expect. It might not be the bright, bubbly feeling we associate with optimism.

Instead, it might be the quiet determination to put one foot in front of the other. It might be the courage to rest when we need to, trusting that rest itself is part of moving forward.

For women in our season of life, hope often intertwines with purpose.

As we release old roles and expectations, hope beckons us toward new possibilities. It invites us to ask: What do I truly love? How can I make a difference? What wants to emerge through me in this chapter of life?

Hope isn't about having all the answers. It's about staying open to possibility, even in the midst of uncertainty. It's about trusting that our story isn't over yet, that there are still beautiful chapters waiting to be written.

So today, I invite you to rekindle your hope. Not the superficial kind, but the deep, anchoring hope that reminds us of who we are and what we're capable of. Let it be your companion as you navigate this rich, complex season.

Your hope matters. It's not just for you; it's a light that touches everyone around you. In a world that often feels dark, your choice to hope is a radical act of courage and love.