You’re Not Hopeless
WHAT YOU AREN’T - Chapter 4
The unthinkable.
Remember that one time... when you did that?
No matter how firmly you've refused to look back, how far you've traveled, how long ago it was...
It still remains.
The stain.
The shame.
That god-awful pit in your stomach.
Maybe you freaked out... or blacked out... or gave in.
Maybe you stumbled into something once upon a time. And now it's a habit you can't seem to kick.
Maybe you used someone and then discarded them like week-old leftovers.
Maybe you severed a friendship or family tie. Maybe you terminated a marriage or a pregnancy... and it haunts you.
Maybe your fears (and that fierce protective instinct) took a wrong turn. What you meant to be caring became critical, condescending, controlling.
Maybe your rage inflicted untold damage on another soul. (Or several.)
Maybe you neglected someone who really needed you.
Or abandoned God.
(Because he's the only one who knows the truth about your backstory.)
Perhaps it wasn't one horrendous mistake. But rather a whole mess of missteps and lousy decisions... that led you to this.
This brokenness. This barrenness. This hopelessness.
You can't stop eating/drinking/popping pills/watching porn. (You know you can't quit it 'cause you've tried. Countless times.)
Maybe you lost your way... and your life isn't even recognizable anymore.
Maybe your lies or debts or damaged relationships are stacked so high you can't see around them.
Or you're stoking a flame of revenge... and now it's threatening to incinerate you.
Okay... okay... maybe I've got it all wrong.
Your problem isn't something you did; it's something someone did to you.
The unthinkable.
It left you gutted, grief-stricken, half-dead. Your heart battered beyond recognition.
Hear this now...
It wasn't your fault.
(Full stop.)
You didn't deserve it.
(No one does.)
But maybe - in the awful aftermath of that unthinkable evil - you did whatever you thought might ease (annihilate) your pain and the unbidden shame.
Booze, blades, blasphemy, bitterness.
Binging... whatever. Bedding... whomever.
But it turns out you weren't erasing the trauma at all. You were just erasing yourself.
And making things worse.
Here's the truth about the unthinkable. It can't be evaded. Or escaped.
It can't be undone.
But justice will be done.
Someday.
Your situation isn’t hopeless. You are not hopeless.
See, the story isn't over yet.
God is full of love and mercy, yes. But he is holy, too. (Contrary to popular belief, these aren't mutually exclusive.)
Justice matters to God, and he judges rightly, perfectly, powerfully, exactingly.
One day - soon, I imagine - he will.
All rise!
We will all stand before the Judge. And when we do, we'll find...
We're all guilty.
Our offenders.
And us, too.
Everyone has sinned. No one measures up to God’s glory. ~ Romans 3:23 (NIRV)
(Don't we know it.)
Let's say someone saw everything we've ever done... from every angle. Knew every detail, read every thought, examined our every intention and reaction.
(Your heart racing yet? Yeah, mine, too.)
But then he did something altogether unexpected... almost unbelievable.
He stepped in.
To both mete out justice... and bear the brunt of it.
It was the only way goodness and grace, mercy and justice, holiness and wholeness could be accomplished.
It was the only way love would win.
The truth is, we all need saving.
And apparently God thought you and I were worth it.
So Jesus surrendered himself.
Sacrificed his life.
Said...
It is finished.
And buried the unthinkable.
When the sun rose on the third day, the Son rose, too. And along with him… hope.
“I know the plans I have in mind for you,” declares the LORD; “they are plans for peace, not disaster, to give you a future filled with hope. When you call me and come and pray to me, I will listen to you. When you search for me, yes, search for me with all your heart, you will find me.” (Jeremiah 29:11-13,CEB)
Believe it, friend.
Pour out your heart - the whole story, every bit of it - and unburden yourself. And Jesus will render all your regret and shame and despair powerless against you.
On God my salvation and my glory rest; He is my rock of [unyielding] strength, my refuge is in God.
Trust [confidently] in Him at all times, O people;
Pour out your heart before Him.
God is a refuge for us. (Psalm 62:7-8, AMP)
The offer still stands.
Refuge.
Relief.
Freedom.
From the unthinkable, unbearable, ugliest and worst.
Turns out, our only hope is... a sure one.
All who call out to the Lord will be saved. ( Romans 10:13, CEV)
All.
(No exceptions, exclusions or prerequisites.)
Jesus loves you more than you could ever imagine. And he's ready to rescue.
What are you waiting for?
Therefore if anyone is in Christ [that is, grafted in, joined to Him by faith in Him as Savior], he is a new creature [reborn and renewed by the Holy Spirit]; the old things [the previous moral and spiritual condition] have passed away. Behold, new things have come [because spiritual awakening brings a new life]. (2 Corinthians 5:17, AMP)
Because of Christ, we can have a new life, a bright future… a heavenly home.
And because of Christ, we can (always) have fresh hope. Because he always hears - and answers - our prayers.
The LORD hears his people when they call to him for help. He rescues them from all their troubles. The LORD is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed. The righteous person faces many troubles, but the LORD comes to the rescue each time. (Psalm 34:17-19, NLT)
We lose hope when we fear that help won’t arrive. But that isn’t true. Help is always on the way. Because Jesus is the Way.
Call out to him. He will come through!
The hard part is the gap between the distress call… and the rescue. When our hope is waning and waiting feels interminable.
And agonizingly lonely.
Just like a deer that craves streams of water, my whole being craves you, God. My whole being thirsts for God, for the living God. When will I come and see God’s face. My tears have been my food both day and night, as people constantly questioned me, “Where’s your God now?”
But I remember these things as I bare my soul: how I made my way to the mighty one’s abode, to God’s own house, with joyous shouts and thanksgiving songs— a huge crowd celebrating the festival! Why, I ask myself, are you so depressed? Why are you so upset inside? Hope in God! Because I will again give him thanks, my saving presence and my God.
My whole being is depressed. That’s why I remember you… Deep called to deep at the noise of your waterfalls; all your massive waves surged over me. By day the Lord commands his faithful love; by night his song is with me— a prayer to the God of my life.
I will say to God, my solid rock, “Why have you forgotten me? Why do I have to walk around, sad, oppressed by enemies?” With my bones crushed, my foes make fun of me, constantly questioning me: “Where’s your God now?”
Why, I ask myself, are you so depressed? Why are you so upset inside? Hope in God! Because I will again give him thanks, my saving presence and my God. (Psalm 42, CEB)
I’m so glad for these reminders in scripture. That life is wildly unpredictable. Trouble is inescapable. Pain is inevitable. Sometimes the undertow threatens to drag us under, swallow us whole. It’s ok to feel depressed/defeated/frantic/forgotten. It’s part of the human condition.
I’m glad, too… for the gentle whisper:
Don’t lose hope.
And the triumphant shout:
Hope in God!
(He’s the only sure-fire source.)
I waited patiently for God to help me; then he listened and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out from the bog and the mire, and set my feet on a hard, firm path, and steadied me as I walked along. He has given me a new song to sing, of praises to our God. Now many will hear of the glorious things he did for me, and stand in awe before the Lord, and put their trust in him. (Psalm 40:1-3, TLB)
Let’s keep reminding each other. Don’t give up. God hears. He’ll answer. Hold on. He’s got this.
And you.
Better’s ahead.
Text copyright © 2026 by Wendy Beth Holtz
