hope for the hopeless

by Misty Dawn

it’s not only the alcoholics and addicts who are broken.

and it’s not only the children of single parents that need hope.

those parents who work desperately for only a bit more than minimum wage while going to college at night in the desperate attempt to earn a salary one day and just maybe have insurance for their children.

it’s also that smoking hot girl.

that girl you always see at starbucks with flawless skin, who just left yoga and is planning to meet her girlfriends for their weekly tennis match that’s always followed by a “happy hour” at the best local wine dive.

she is broken too.

or the humble musician, with the trendy clothes, that leads bible studies out of his apartment and volunteers his free time counseling victims of human trafficking. even he needs hope. even your mom. even the dad you may or may not know.

he is broken.

and he needs hope too.

we all are.

and we all do.


share a cup of coffee, or a glass of wine, with anyone at all and you’ll see that complete tragedy has touched us all at some point.

sometimes tragedy is just the world someone lives in.

every single day.

listen, and you’ll hear that tragedy has touched their moms, their dads, their best friends, and you’ll hear, tragedy touches us all.

tragedies are inevitable in a broken world.

they lend to the brokenness that we all feel.

the brokenness that we all long to be healed of.

share a cup of coffee, or a glass of wine with anyone at all and you’ll hear the longing for healing, if you’re listening.

do you listen?

anxiety. depression. perfectionism. false confidence in a legalistic life. fear. counterfeit pride. a stubbornness that’ll defend lies believed for an entire lifetime. generations even.

anger. avoidance. escape. guilt. betrayal.

bogus parades of paradise.


sexual abuse.

it isn’t just rape.

and it doesn’t just happen to little girls by their mom’s sixth live in boyfriend. sometimes it’s their own dad. or their brother. sometimes the victim isn’t a girl at all. and sometimes the victim believes he isn’t a victim at all.

he pretends.

he pretends that he’s interested because its easier to “be willing” than to sleep at night knowing that someone is stealing pieces of your soul right in your own bed, under your very own roof.

sometimes the victim isn’t only the girl, but her mother too, because it’s her husband who’s taking his very own daughter.

and drug addiction doesn’t just happen to those with low self-esteem.

it isn’t just the fate of the uneducated.

sometimes it just stems from boredom. curiosity. or a desire to know what others are seemingly enjoying. sometimes drug addiction does just happen.


it isn’t just present in the shy personality, the girl covered in acne, or the last one picked for the team. insecurity isn’t only the guy who just isn’t strong enough, or smart enough, or whatever enough.  sometimes, most times, insecurity just is.

it’s the nature of our nature.

before Christ.

with Christ there is hope.

hope for the hopeless.

and love.

in it’s purest form.

share a cup of coffee, or a glass of wine, with anyone at all, and you’ll taste the truth of love, even if just for a moment. and you’ll hear it. if you’re listening.


in it’s purest form.

listen for it.

 kiss your daughters on their foreheads often.

remember that women are daughters too.

play jenga and checkers with your sons and teach them the real meaning of masculinity, so that our daughters will know the real meaning of their femininity.

and remember,

we are all still learning.

no one has it all together, and expecting that they will, will only break them more.


just love one another.

and let it cover over a multitude of sin.

|1 Peter 4:8|