Attached to both hope and surrender.  That's what I want to be.  It feels so good to hope.  It hurts so bad to be disappointed.  I want to hope. I want to surrender.

But when have I last been sickened by loss of hope?  What have I hoped for something that when it was not fulfilled I felt sick?

What does it mean that I can't think of much?

I would like to think the reason I can't think of much in this category is because I am so surrendered to God that the loss of anything that I hope for can not really touch me, since my hope is in God. 

But if I am more honest, the reason I can't think of much in this category is because I refuse to hope for much, not because I am so godly, but because I don't want to hurt or be disappointed.  After all, we know that one way to avoid the pain of disappointment is to diminish one's wants.

I remember at my children's ballgames thinking, when it was a close game at the end, "We'll probably lose."  Now why would I think that instead of say what I really hoped for - that we would win, of course?  I finally decided it was more enjoyable to hope to win and be disappointed than to lose and not be disappointed.  And sure enough - that's right!  But I had to choose that. Plus, I imagined that it's no fun sitting next to someone who is refusing to hope!

What would it mean to hope for more in my marriage?  More vitality, more intimacy, more peace, more togetherness, more mutuality?  Do I have the courage for that?  Or will I settle?

What would it mean to hope for more in my family relationships?  More passion, more enjoyment, more challenge?   Do I have the courage to hope for more of that?  Or will I settle?

What would it mean to hope for more in my relationship with my Creator?  More closeness, more companionship, more love, more vitality, more passion?    Or will I settle?

I am not a Buddhist.  I am a Christian.  Buddhists attempt to detach from desire in order to be at peace in the world.  I understand. Christ-followers are to deal with their desires by asking for what they desire instead of killing the desire, knowing that their deepest desire will ultimately be met in God.  That does require vulnerability, the willingness to be disappointed, and the patience to wait for the right time for desire to be fulfilled.  People don't die from disappointment.  People are more likely to "die" by trying to deny disappointment.  One could suppose that those who take their own lives did not have enough room or capacity to truly lament their disappointments.

Velma and I are having our oldest grandson over for this evening and overnight to follow through on our promise to do something special with him to celebrate his April 5th birthday. (This is one attempt to give experiences to him, not just physical gifts.)  Just sitting here I realize I have a choice about how much I hope for a wonderful time as we invest ourselves in it.  The more I hope, the more fun it sounds like it will be!  But then I think, "Something could go wrong."  That's right, but so what?  I can hope, I can be disappointed; either way I will feel alive.  And that does sound better than the alternative!

"Playful God, I'm getting impatient to get home to begin this adventure with Isaac.  We can give him a good time with us and I'd like to get started.  Oh . . . so that desire is to just sit there and increase until it's time to go home?  I think I can do that.  I do wonder what desires you are living with and how much patience You have to exercise as you wait.  Thank you for creating so much to hope for, even though it hurts.  Amen"

I work with individuals, couples, and families to identify the ways of life and death in their lives and help uncover the motivation to choose that which leads to life, whether it be through counseling or spiritual direction.  - Sheldon Swartz, MA/LMFT