Hopeless Hope

Driving north bound on I-75, destination dinner at an Irish pub; I approached a tow truck on the right hand side of the highway. As I came upon the tow truck, I realized that the truck was broke down, dead on the side of the highway. That occurred to me to be rather ironic, the vehicle of rescue needing some rescue of its own. And off I continued to my dinner of fish and chips and whiskey soaked raisin bread pudding and vanilla bean ice-cream.


In reflection, irony seems to occur around us more frequently than we might imagine. In my line of work, this occurs on a daily basis. I have walked with people who have discovered life through their own terminal illness. I have seen marriages burst open in renewed love and commitment through facebook affairs and office romances. I have seen life grow abundantly through forgiveness that was never thought to be given. The people who have found God through running from Him into addiction, pornography, power and control, and corruption are too many to remember.


Think of the times you were afraid, lonely, abandoned, uncertain, and helpless, not having a clue as where to turn, and in that misery, hope burst forth like a bright ray of sun on a cloudy and rainy day. The irony is that we are at times that broken down tow truck, needing rescue from life’s blown gaskets, pot holes and flat tires. When we find ourselves in such an unwanted and undesired situation, we can cling to being hopeless rather than cling to the hope that meets us each day, like the air in our lungs and the sun of the morning rise.


I’ve always been fascinated by Victor Frankl’s search for meaning and finding it in a Nazi Concentration Camp. Dr. Frankl tells of finding hope in what I would consider one of the most hopeless places in documented history. And then, again, the irony of this existence brings life to a man sentenced to certain extermination, at the hands of an executioner, via gas, a bullet in a mass grave, or starvation.


It seems to me that when I am like Victor, I am seeking the same God in misery that I sought in times of Joy. I’m not saying that this is easy, as I know that it is not, but then in my often confused brain, I do understand that this is quite simple. But then, as Thomas Merton and St. Francis told so long ago, simple is not easy. Seeking God when I feel abandoned by God is simple; it’s my emotions that make it hard.


As you drive the back roads and highways of life, remember that the God you praise is the same God when the driving is fast and easy as when the driving is slow and filled with the rocky roads of life. Slow down, understand that you’re in a tow truck moment, and seek the rescue of the One who knows no limitations, who knows no boundaries, and who carries you in this life and into eternity.


Like Dr. Frankl, hope is a choice, and like Dr. Frankl, and like me, hope is yours to choose or yours to lose. After all, I suppose the biggest ironies in life are that all life is meant to die, and in death, our life is birthed into eternity. My reader and friend, embrace hope and cling to her Owner, even in the irony of life.

(The writings in this post are random thoughts and observations and are NEVER intended as professional or personal advice. Take what works and leave the rest. For information on mental health and/or substance abuse help, visit http://www.rodneyvalandra.com and refer to the links page.)