Thriving In Chaos
Hope Beyond the Storm
16 Therefore we do not lose heart.Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. 17 For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. 18 So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.
There are seasons in life when it feels like we are just existing. We wake up, go through the motions, and make it to the end of the day without much joy or expectation. Hard things pile up—loss, disappointment, sickness, broken relationships—and before we realize it, those things become the lens through which we see everything else. Hope begins to feel distant.
Paul understood that feeling. That’s why he tells us, “So we do not lose heart.” Not because life is easy, but because it often isn’t. He acknowledges that we are worn down outwardly, yet reminds us that inwardly God is still at work—renewing us day by day. Even when we feel tired, discouraged, or defeated, God is not finished.
Sometimes we focus so heavily on what has gone wrong that it overshadows all the good that ever was. My dad felt that way when he received the news that he had pancreatic cancer. In that moment, life felt disappointing—like it hadn’t turned out the way he had hoped. But as he looked back through photos of his life, something unexpected happened. In picture after picture, he saw himself smiling, laughing, surrounded by moments of joy. He realized that life hadn’t been all pain. There had been goodness. There had been love. There had been joy woven throughout the years.
That realization didn’t erase the hard news, but it changed how he saw his story.
Paul reminds us that what we see right now is temporary. The pain, the grief, the disappointment—they feel overwhelming, but they are not the whole story. When we fix our eyes only on what is visible, we miss what God is doing beneath the surface. God is working in ways we cannot yet see, building something eternal from what feels unbearable.
Hope in hard times doesn’t mean denying the pain. It means trusting that the pain is not the end. It means believing that God can redeem even the seasons that feel wasted or disappointing. One day, we may look back and realize that joy existed alongside the sorrow—that God was present even when life felt heavy.
So today, if you feel like you’re just existing, take heart. Do not lose heart. Fix your eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. God is still writing your story, and His plans are far greater than what this moment can show.
Prayer
Lord, Some days I feel tired—not just in my body, but in my heart. Life can feel heavy, and there are moments when it seems like I’m just existing, trying to get through one more day. You see the disappointment, the grief, and the quiet struggles I carry, even when I don’t have words for them.
Help me not to lose heart when the hard seasons come. When I am tempted to focus only on what is going wrong, gently turn my eyes back to You. Remind me of the joy You have already given me and the ways You have been faithful, even when I didn’t notice at the time.
When pain clouds my perspective, help me fix my eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen.
Hope That Holds When the World Cannot
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” — Jeremiah 29:11
Hope is supposed to be the simplest thing a person can hold, yet today, nearly 40% of young people say they don’t feel hope at all. They say the world feels too heavy, too broken, too uncertain. And truthfully? If our hope is placed in this world, then they’re right.
But Scripture teaches us something radical… Hope does not come from circumstances. Hope comes from a Person. Hope is Jesus.
This world offers temporary comforts and quick fixes, but it can never offer healing for the soul. Only God can do that. Only God knows the plans He has for us. Only God restores what life breaks, gives purpose where there has been pain, and breathes hope into the places that feel hopeless.
I know the ache of this deeply.
It’s been almost sixteen years since I received a phone call from my half-brother, Aaron. He was only nineteen. I had met him once, but we had talked over the years... little moments of connection stitched between miles of distance. I live in Montana, he lived in Pennsylvania.
On that day, he told me he wanted to come live with us. We had a good conversation and my heart was open to it. But later that night, my mom called and told me Aaron had been hanging around a bad crowd… using drugs...
I had little kids. I started rethinking everything. I didn’t know what to say, how to help, or whether I even could. So when Aaron called me again, I froze. And I didn’t answer. It has haunted me all these years…
A week later, the phone rang again. This time, it was the call that broke my world. Aaron had taken his life. He had reached out to me. And I didn’t pick up the phone.
Three months later, my other half-brother Darren, who was a few months from graduating high school and had been doing well up until Aaron’s death, took his own life too. He left a note saying he couldn’t live without Aaron.
If only I had answered Aaron’s cry for help. Maybe things would be different. If only, my heart whispered. If only I had answered. If only I could go back. If only there were second chances. Maybe things would be different…
But here is the truth I had to learn through tears and years… God is our second chance. Our only chance. The One who heals the places we cannot reach.The One who gives hope when we have none left.
Aaron and Darren grew up in difficult circumstances. Our mom struggled with health issues and mental illness. Life wasn’t kind to them. And I carried the weight of “What if?” for far too long.
But guilt doesn’t heal. God does. Where shame says, “You failed,” Jesus says, “I redeem.” Where regret says, “It’s too late,” Jesus whispers, “I make all things new.” Where grief says, “There is no hope,” The manger says, “Hope has arrived.”
Christmas: The Arrival of Hope
Christmas is often called “the most wonderful time of the year,” but for many, it isn’t. It’s a spotlight on what hurts. Empty chairs where loved ones used to sit, broken relationships, financial strain, health battles, memories that ache, loneliness wrapped in twinkling lights.
But Christmas was never meant to be perfect, it was meant to be hopeful. Because Christmas is not about presents, parties, or perfection. It's about a Person. A Savior. A Baby in a manger who came to pull us out of darkness and into His marvelous light. Jesus came because we are broken. Because we need healing. Because without Him, hope is impossible.
The birth of Christ is God saying to a hurting world, “I see you. I love you. I am with you. I am your hope.”
Hope Starts at Home
Aaron and Darren’s story reminds me how deeply lives can be shaped by love, or by the absence of it. As parents, grandparents, and guardians, we hold a role that heaven takes seriously: Love your kids fiercely, encourage them constantly, speak life into them. show up every day in big ways and small, nurture their gifts and help them become confident, steady, independent adults. TALK TO YOUR KIDS ABOUT THE LORD AND HIS GRACE AND THE BEAUTIFUL GIFT OF JESUS. Build that foundation so your kids know where their hope lies.
And here's the big one: Don’t stop parenting when they turn eighteen. Our kids still need guidance, wisdom, reassurance, and a voice that says, “I’m here. You matter. You’re not alone.”
Hope grows in the soil of love. And God has entrusted us to plant it.
The God of Another Chance
I wish I could go back and answer that phone. I wish I could rewrite that story. But I can’t. What I can do is share this truth: God is still writing your story. God is still restoring what was broken. God is still the God of hope.
Jeremiah 29:11 isn’t a cute verse for gift bags or Christmas cards—it is the heartbeat of God: “I know the plans I have for you… Plans to give you hope and a future.” Not the world’s hope. Not temporary hope. Not fragile, fleeting, or shallow hope. Real hope. Eternal hope. Jesus.
This world will fail us. People will fail us. We will even fail ourselves. But Jesus never will. He is the second chance we long for. Some of us need more than a second chance, sometimes many more, because we continue to fail to get it right. He’s the Savior we desperately need. The Hope we celebrate every Christmas.
And if you’re facing this season with grief, questions, fear, or heartache, remember this: The manger is proof that God steps into the darkest places to bring light that never goes out.
Prayer
Lord, thank You for sending Jesus, our hope, our healing, and our light in the darkness. For every heart walking through loss, regret, or fear this Christmas, wrap them in Your peace. Remind us that You redeem what we cannot fix. Help us love our children well, guide our families, and place our trust not in this world, but in You alone. Amen.