I have been struggling to understand godly hope. What does it really mean to hope? Is it only hope in my salvation? Hope that, in the end, Jesus wins?

I have been praying about this a lot, and on Saturday I asked God very specifically to help me understand. I asked Him for wisdom because I want to have hope, but honestly, I don’t feel very hopeful right now.

Then Sunday morning, less than two minutes into the sermon, I quietly said, “Okay, God. I’m listening.”

I still don’t think I fully understand godly hope. Or maybe I am still struggling to let go of worldly hope. The hope that I will have the “marriage of my dreams.” I am not giving up on the possibility of a new covenant marriage with my husband. But I am beginning to untangle the difference between wishing and biblical hope.

Psalm 130:5 says, “I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope.” The word hope here carries the idea of staying anchored while waiting.

There is that word: anchored.

I recently learned that early Christians often used an anchor, rather than a cross, as a symbol of their faith. Being anchored is not passive resignation. It is choosing to remain expectant because of who God is.

Isaiah 40:31 says, “Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.” That verse brought me back to the little name cards sold in Christian bookstores in the 1990s. Mine had Isaiah 40:31 printed on it.

This kind of hope is not weak, worldly wishing. It is being tied to God and strengthened while I wait. It is not hoping life turns out exactly the way I want. It is anchoring myself to God while I wait.

My hope needs to be rooted in the character of God, not in my circumstances.

Hebrews 6:19 says, “We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.”

There is that word again: anchor.

Being anchored to God does not mean the storm is gone. It keeps me from drifting during the storm.

I think that during the first few years after learning about my husband’s pornography addiction and infidelity, I was drifting. Worldly hope says, “Maybe things will work out.” Biblical hope says, “God will remain faithful no matter what happens.”

Biblical hope is not certainty that I will get the earthly outcome I want. It is certainty that God will remain faithful, present, redeeming, and true.

That does not make my grief disappear. It does not make me stop longing for healing and restoration. It does not guarantee that I will have a beautiful marriage or relief from pain. But it does mean my soul can stop resting on whether earthly outcomes happen exactly the way I want them to.

I picture a whiteboard filled with all my wishes for what I wanted my marriage to be. I think I need to erase that board and hand God the marker.

God is not against me. My suffering is not proof that He has abandoned me.

Romans 8:28 says, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him…”

Not all things are good. But God works them for my good.

When I look back over the last twelve months, I can already see fruit God has grown in me. My relationship with Him has deepened. I have learned that I can love my husband despite the pain he brought into our marriage. I have learned how to have joy in the storm.

I have learned how to set healthy boundaries so I can respond with more gentleness and peace. I am learning patience. I am learning self-control.

I don’t know what God will draw on that blank whiteboard. But I can look back and begin to see some of the beauty from ashes He has already created.

I would never wish this journey on anyone. But I can finally begin to see that God has not wasted it.

-Aimee