This isn’t the end of the story.
I think it’s pretty easy to lose sight of that when we’re in the middle of something heartbreaking, confusing, challenging.
This isn’t the end of the story.
Sometimes we forget that the ‘right now’ isn’t forever. Sometimes we forget that just because we feel the way we feel in this moment, it doesn’t mean that we’re going to feel like this for the rest of our lives.
This isn’t the end of the story.
When we’re disappointed with the actions of someone else, or the “bad” decisions they make, it’s sometimes hard to not think that they’re ruining their life. It’s sometimes hard not to judge. It’s sometimes hard to not hold them to our own standard of right, wrong, good, bad. It’s sometimes hard to think that there could be hope for them outside of what we’re currently witnessing.
This isn’t the end of the story.
No matter what the doctors have said, no matter how bleak the circumstances look, no matter how awful it seems like it could be…
This isn’t the end.
There’s still room to hope. There is still the possibility that it could be different.
We don’t know.
All we see is the here and now and sometimes our limited perspective drives us. It can often drive us into a pit of despair and sorrow. It can make us feel as though what we are currently in the midst of is all that will ever be. It can make us feel like there’s no way out.
Zoom out for a second.
Recognize that you don’t know the end. You don’t know how it’s going to turn out. You may never know.
Allow yourself to hope that it could be better.
Allow yourself to believe fully in a God whose sovereignty goes beyond our limitations, whose goodness goes beyond our own understanding. A God who knows the end of the story, a God who is making everything beautiful in its time.
There’s much to hope in, friends.
Because we don’t know the end of their story. We don’t know the end of our story.
He might overcome that addiction. She might walk away from that sin. We might break out of our comfort zone and have an opportunity to really chase our dreams. He might miraculously recover and live a full and healthy life, despite what the doctors all said. She might walk away cancer-free. We might, actually, meet the man of our dreams…even when we’ve given up every hope that it could be possible. We might, one day, feel something more than the throbbing pain of the loss that we just experienced.
Don’t treat life like your current circumstances are defining of your existence. When we can zoom out, when we can allow ourselves to admit that we don’t know what’s going to happen… I think that’s when we can learn to be content, no matter what’s going on.
It’s a shift to an eternal perspective.
A shift to trusting the Lord in a way that maybe you never have before.
A shift to living more fully in the here and now.
Because we don’t know the end of the story.
And there’s something powerfully hopeful in that.