Holding Hope While Letting Go

What are you putting your hope in?

Money?
People?
Your kids?
Security?
Your job?
Your spouse?
God?

Merriam-Webster defines hope as “a desire accompanied by expectation of obtaining what is desired, or belief that it is attainable.”

I’ve also heard it said that hope is just prolonged disappointment. And honestly? Sometimes it can feel that way—especially when we desperately want something that, based on patterns, just doesn’t seem like it will ever change.

But here’s the truth I keep coming back to:
Your hope is only as strong as where you are putting it.

If your hope is in something unstable, your hope will feel unstable.
If your hope is in something temporary, it will eventually disappoint.

And yet, we all need hope to survive this thing we call life.

Have you ever been in a place where you’ve prayed for something for a long time—years, even? You placed your hope in the belief that God would answer, and that hope carried you forward. I know I have.

And if I’m being honest, I’ve also wrestled with disappointment. I’ve questioned God. I’ve wondered why my prayers seemed to go unanswered.

After all, Scripture says:

“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.” — Matthew 7:7–8

Those words feel like a promise we want to cling to.
So we ask.
We seek.
We knock.

But what happens when the answer doesn’t come the way we expected?
Or when it feels like it hasn’t come at all?

What I’m learning is this: it’s not just about placing my hope in God—it’s also about trusting His timing.

God can see the entire story, beginning to end.
We only see and feel what is right in front of us in this moment.

And that’s where the tension lives.

Because sometimes what we want now doesn’t line up with what God knows is best later.

Maybe this passage isn’t just about getting exactly what we ask for.
Maybe it’s about staying in relationship while we ask.

Because asking keeps us connected.
Seeking keeps us moving toward Him.
Knocking keeps us engaged in faith—even when the door hasn’t opened yet.

And here’s the shift:

What if “it will be given” doesn’t always mean what we asked for…
but instead means exactly what we need, at exactly the right time?

What if seeking isn’t just about finding answers…
but about finding God Himself in the process?

What if knocking isn’t about forcing a door open…
but trusting that God will open the right one?

Hope in God isn’t about getting everything we ask for when we ask for it.
It’s about trusting the One we’re asking—and trusting when and how He chooses to respond.

Sometimes what we’re asking for isn’t what we actually need.
Sometimes the door we’re knocking on isn’t the one meant to open.
And sometimes the answer isn’t yes—it’s wait, or even no.

That doesn’t mean God is absent.
It doesn’t mean He isn’t listening.
And it definitely doesn’t mean He doesn’t care.

It means He sees what we can’t.

So today, I’m asking myself—and maybe you too:

What am I really putting my hope in?

Because anything rooted in circumstances can shift.
Anything grounded in people can disappoint.
Anything tied to outcomes can fall apart.

But hope anchored in God—and in His perfect timing—
that kind of hope is different.
That kind of hope is steady.
That kind of hope sustains you.

Because your hope is only as strong as where you place it.

Desperately holding onto hope,

Sandy