Hopelessness is a mighty force. We reject the promise of God for peace, hope and salvation and exhaust ourselves trying to relieve our hopelessness. We devise our own plans for getting hope. I will find hope in a relationship. I will find it in a job. I will find it in possessions. I will find it in power. I will find it in pleasure. I will scour the earth. I will use every resource in my power to rid myself of hopelessness. I know this road, it’s a dead end. From what we have seen, this posture is the root of our problem not the solution. We know the ache for hope, but as we stiff-arm the God of Hope it remains evasive.
In despair, we reject the promise of God for joy, purpose and an eternal future. Such promises are too good to be true. Such promises are simply not true. Despair retreats from God and lives without grasping for hope. “Despair, too, presupposes hope. ‘What we do not long for, can be the object neither of our hope nor of our despair’ (Augustine). The pain of despair surely lies in the fact that a hope is there, but no way opens up towards its fulfillment.”
God’s Word cuts through the noise. He speaks clearly and authoritatively about our hopelessness. He defines it for us. Does God’s four-fold description of hopelessness speak to you? Are you without Jesus? Do you know his people? Are his promises yours? Do you have God in this world? Do you recognize hopelessness in your active rebellion or in your passive despair?
Hopelessness should drive us to hope. But we must know where to find it. Empty promises of hope abound. God’s Word gives us the path. It points us the right way. It directs us to the Triune God. Amid despair, there is hope; a certain, fixed, unfailing hope that will anchor your soul. This is good news. I need an anchor. If such stabilizing news existed, would you not long to hear it?
Hopelessness creates an appetite for hope. It makes us ache for relief. Embracing our brokenness, owning our sin and facing the fact that life is desperately messy is foundational to receiving the gift of hope. We must start here, but we cannot stay here. Hope awaits. We have spent ample time outside of Eden. We must press forward to Bethlehem and onto Jerusalem.
 Moltmann, Theology of Hope, 7.