We do not have the right to give up hope

One of my responsibilities at work is to provide a time of devotion and reflection each week for the staff. This has been an exciting, challenging and rewarding experience for me. I love spending time searching the scripture. I also love spending time talking about scripture with other people.
My colleagues in the office are engaging and dynamic. They too are constantly seeking and searching, wanting to learn more, and wanting to understand. Last week we spent some time discussing service and peace, trying to discern ways that we can be servants to one another in this office.
And yesterday we talked about hope. Now, I must confess that I was quite intimidated when my supervisor asked me to do a reflection on hope. "Who am I?" I thought. "Who am I to speak about hope when I have likely never known what it is like to be in deep despair? I just arrived! I am full of hope... I am not yet jaded... is that good or bad?"
Well, thankfully, as often is the case when the Word of the Lord is opened, the One directing the conversation was not me yesterday.
We had a time to honestly question each other, 'what do you do when you have no hope?' Some of the amazing responses were as follows:
'Jesus gave us hope that He will come back - this is where we find our hope'
'Hope is the driving force behind our work.'
'Hope grows when we support each other - we see hope in one another and this renews us'
'Hope is life. Hope is giving. This is just what we do.'
'If hope is not risky, and if hope is not promising, then it is no hope at all.'
'Hope can always be refilled.'
'Without hope we have no life. It is the light in our life.'

Perhaps the most powerful reflection came from my supervisor, Zoughbi. I was sharing a quote with him from a book I read for my class on the Rwandan Genocide. I will include the quote here and leave you with the words of Zoughbi...

"What might it mean to see ourselves in others? What might it mean to see the faces of the victims of Rwanda in others? Andre Sibomana, a priest from Rwanda and a survivor of the genocide, seemed to experience this during his time in Israel/Palestine, (a place to which he travelled for a time of rest and reflection after the genocide). He says, 'Here (in Israel/Palestine) I have discovered a little corner of land which seems to have taken on all the problems which have befallen humanity over the last 2,000 years. We are not the only ones living in the eye of the storm. I did not find answers in Israel/Palestine to the questions I was asking myself before leaving Rwanda, but I have understood that these questions are not my questions: they belong to all who suffer the violence of history and are seeking the path to freedom... We do not have the right to give up hope. Life has been given to us; it is a gift from G-d
We must work towards creating a better life for everyone. The Gospel shows us the way.'"

Upon hearing this, Zoughbi said, "I am humbled by my burdens. Others have burdens - big burdens - and they are able to go on. Hearing this story of the man from Rwanda humbles me. I am humbled in my own burdens."


And this was so powerful to me, friends! (this is Ashley speaking again) How amazing that someone who continually struggles for freedom and dignity is humbled in a way that is not degrading or unhealthy. Rather, I would say it is faithful! These new friends of mine, these colleagues are searching desperately for hope and they are finding it. They are finding it in Christ. They are finding it in each other. They are finding it in YOU. They are finding it in the stories of those who have gone before them.

Please pray with me that we will continue to find this hope. For it can be elusive and many times it can be dark. Pray we will continue to hope in the hope we have been given.
Peace and hope to each of you,
Ashley