Giving rise to hope opens a door to deeper desires embracing a pursuit of being known through joy and wonder in relationship.  Applying for the job that Cheryl told me about brought hope bringing us closer and eliminating the distance of a dating relationship. After applying for the job, waiting in anticipation for good news “You got the job,” would allow us to spend more time together, something we looked forward to.  We continued to talk weekly on the phone. Another trip was made and the time together was filled with wonder, joy, and adventure.  Another month went by without any news about the job.  It was December and Cheryl called.  She talked with her brother who told her the job was given to someone else.  She was discouraged and so was I.  For me there was still hope.  I had a trip planned to see her the week after Christmas.  I told her I looked forward to seeing her. I had no idea the hope of relationship was fading.

The flight was made, and Cheryl picked me up at the airport.  I stayed at her brother’s house who was gone that weekend. Cheryl told me she was busy and would have difficulty getting together with me. I made a call to her about getting together.  She avoided me.  I spent the weekend alone accompanied by a growing stress and anxiety of unknown origin.  The weekend came and was gone. The only time together with Cheryl was when she picked me up and returned me to the airport.  On the way back to the airport she told me our relationship was over, with this dreaded revelation I began to cry and couldn’t stop.  For the first time in our relationship she didn’t stay with me until it was time to board the plane. She walked away without even saying goodbye or I’m sorry.

I was alone and once again unloved or so I thought.  The pain seemed to great to bear. Coming home I hid the pain, saying nothing to anyone about the broken relationship. On my way to work, while stopped waiting for traffic, I made a dreadful and naive decision. The words spoken, “I will never let anyone hurt me like that again.”  Almost immediately the pain stopped and I felt nothing inside. I was 18, soon to be 19. This decision affected my life by repeating what was all to familiar, don’t talk about what happened, don’t think about what happened, and don’t tell anyone what you feel about what happened.

The brokenness of my heart was hidden, shut down, avoided, unspoken, buried, yet very present.  My desire to be enjoyed, cherished, loved, understood and cared for didn’t disappear.  I just told myself that these desires don’t matter.  That is what many of us do when our hope for goodness, love, and understanding fades away. What I didn’t know at that time but do know now, our brokenness matters, our desires are to be known.  God cherishes the hearts of those who are broken, captive, and lost. There is hope in the midst of despair. Sometimes it takes years to discover this hope, it is a worth while journey.

Looking back, I never told Cheryl thanks for showing me the love of God through the time we had together. She did. You know what else happened, I never realized I gave her a glimpse of God’s love for her heart in the time we had together as well.

Here’s a question for you, “How often do you experience being enjoyed and delighted in by others? Years ago, in high school, Campus Crusade for Christ had several adult staff who invested their lives helping high school kids become student leaders. After graduating high school, the staff took a group of us, during mid summer, to Arrowhead Springs, Ca for a week long leadership training.  During the break times from studies and classes, a group of guys would play aggressive games of basketball while inhaling the smoggy air.  To our surprise there were girls we didn’t know who were cheering us on. During a smog recovery break, I went over to talk  a couple of girls cheering us on. As we talked, I found out that Sheryl and Cheryl were good friends who went to the same high school about 300 miles from where I lived.  After the basketball game was over, Sheryl came up to me and said, “Cheryl likes you and wants to get your phone number.” Surprised, I said okay and walked to where Cheryl was.  We exchanged phone numbers, and departed for home two days later.

That fall I started college.  Cheryl and I also started a long distant dating relationship. About once a month I would fly or drive to where she lived.  When ever she saw me her eyes would light up accompanied with a big smile and inviting hug.  Being delighted in and enjoyed gave a rise of hope within my heart.  I delighted and enjoyed her as well.  We went on adventures together in her home town. She introduced me to her friends. We had several long talks.  After 3 months of seeing each other and weekly talks on the phone, she told me about a job opportunity in her town and would I be interested in applying for it.  I jumped on the opportunity.  She knew the director of the program and was sure that I would get the job.

For the first time in my life I began to understand what love was, and I was developing a love for this person. The hope inside, “somebody really cares about me.”  What a powerful experience for a young man who learned from his own family that you don’t talk, don’t think, and don’t feel.  I felt free to be me in this relationship, I didn’t worry about impressing her.  Hope in relationship grows between two people when moments of being delighted in, enjoyed, loved, listened to, understood take place and/or when you know someone cares about who you are. Prov. 13:12 says, “… a fulfilled desire is a tree of life.”  No doubt, this new relationship felt like a tree of life.  This relationship brought hope that I’d never know before.  Somebody truly loves me for who I am.  What I didn’t see is that through her life God was giving me a glimpse of the love He has for my heart.

Over the years, I have learned that I don’t deal very well with disappointment. To often I will blame myself for what happened, withdraw, wonder what is wrong with me, or even experience anxiety.  How does disappointment become such a burden to bear at times?  Many people, sadly, grew up in abusive alcoholic home like the one I learned from.  My dad was a hard working man who provided for our family. When at home he expected life to flow the way he wanted it to be. Each night he slowly unwound drinking beer after beer eventually falling asleep on the couch.  Ever lived in a family with four boys? What level of quiet would you anticipate in the home? It didn’t take long to disrupt dad’s slumber. What was his response: anger, threats and rage.  There were times he was so angry he would leave the house for 2 to 3 hours not telling us where he went. Coming home, he was calm while everyone in the house was stressed.  Heard of the elephant in the room that no one talks about?  That was our household reality.

As I have learned from my own family and those who I’ve seen over the years, there is a travesty of what children in alcoholic and abusive homes go through. No one takes an interest in the emotional welfare of the child. No one is there to listen and understand a child’s voice.  A child is left to cope with disappointment and pain on their own.  Often a child believes they are on their own, they don’t feel safe, or loved. Often a child may end up care taking their parent.  Fast forward 35 years.  The child who grows up to be an adult doesn’t have good coping skills because they were never taught good coping skills by their parents.

Many adults carry on in their homes what they learned from an alcoholic family, don’t talk about what took place, don’t think about what happened, and don’t feel the pain of not being loved. There is hope and that hope is a paradox that contradicts what we’ve learned. What direction should we take? Share your hurts with someone who cares. Express fears and doubts with those who value what you say. Talk about what happened, develop trusting relationships where you can be vulnerable with others who show you grace, compassion, and understanding. Feel the hidden pain of not being loved, voicing your brokenness about painful past issues is risky business. We need others who care for us be it a friend, spouse, pastor or counselor.  If we don’t take risks in letting others know about our lives we will never know that there are those who truly care about us. My greatest hope grows from risking in relationship by telling others about my brokenness and struggles. I have come to know friendship and compassion through these relationships.

Look at the life of Jesus, how he was with those who were cast out, shamed, alone, guilty.  People risked coming to Jesus with experiences of fear and uncertainty.  In their encounter with Jesus he loved and cared for them in ways that brought hope into their lives. Hope will grow when we risk vulnerability in relationship with others.  If you have any questions about what has been shared, contact me.