Hope When the World Feels Like a Dumpster Fire

Lately it feels like every time I turn on the TV, scroll through social media, or check my notifications, some new and devastating thing is happening. Hardly a day passes anymore without some gut-wrenching, heart-crushing news breaking.

It’s so much that the shock has started to wear off. Another day, another atrocity — and before there is a chance to fully process and mourn what has just passed, something else equally terrible happens, and the cycle starts all over again.

I can feel myself getting numb, turning to my favorite means of escapism so I don’t have to think about all the awful things going on in the world around me. I don’t like that I do that; I know it’s a privilege to even have the option to turn away from tragedy when others are living in it day in and day out. And I want to be the kind of person who is heartbroken at the sight of suffering and injustice...but it’s hard.

Someone I follow on Twitter once suggested that the human heart is only capable of handling so much pain at a time. And I don’t know about you, but it feels like my heart’s empathy levels are at full capacity, and the faucet dispensing the awfulness isn’t anywhere close to shutting off.

The issues at hand are so big — systemic racism, corrupt governments, unjust laws, deep-seated prejudice, etc. — that it ’s overwhelming. How did we get here? How do we fix this? Is it even possible to fix this? How can I make a difference? Where do I start?

Is everything as hopeless as it feels?

In the midst of this, I’m trying to be happy. I’ve been thinking about the things that bring me joy and am trying to purposefully make space for them in my life. I bought a book of poetry by a local writer whose work stirs my heart. I made cheesecake and shared it with everyone within arm's reach. I started making the bed every morning so I can slip into cool sheets at night.

Some days, even doing those little things can feel selfish. America seems to be going to hell in a hand-basket, and I’m over here making cheesecake, as if that is going to make anything better?

Well…yes. Because I think it’s important to have things to hope for, even if it’s something as simple as a slice of homemade cheesecake at the end of a taxing day.

Hope is faith in the possibility of something better. It is the thing that bubbles up inside of you, reminding you that change can come and good things can happen. In the face of a never-ending cycle of shock and sadness and the threat of numbed hearts, it is hope that can cancel out despair.

So when the world feels like a giant dumpster fire, how do we keep hope? Singing about raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens might work for Julie Andrews during a thunderstorm, but that seems little consolation when toddlers are being detained in rooms made of wire fencing and entire cities don't have potable water.

I don’t know that I have a concrete answer, but I do have a suggestion: watch the world around you for glimmers of hope.

It's like the advice Mr. Roger's mother gave him in the face of tragedy: look for the helpers. Where are you seeing glimpses of hope in the midst of the mess? You might find it in the rising number of women being voted into office across the nation. Or the record numbers of blood donors that show up after a disaster. Maybe you see hope in a shared meal between neighbors of different faiths or in a kind gesture from a child you're raising. Or in something as simple a lovely sunset after a rainy day.

In times like this, I go back to the scripture that inspired the tagline of this blog, Romans 15:13 (NLT):

“I pray that God, the source of hope, will fill you completely with joy and peace because you trust in him. Then you will overflow with confident hope through the power of the Holy Spirit.”

If I want to be filled with hope, I just need to trust in God, and through the Holy Spirit I can experience joy and peace. I know that can be harder than it sounds, but personally, I find it so comforting to believe that someone who sees and understands more than I do can be trusted to be in charge — and that He wants to share hope and joy and peace with us.

I keep thinking about that recording that's been going around of the mother from Guatemala talking on the phone to her child detained in a facility in Arizona after coming to the U.S. with his father. She comforts her son, despite their long and long-distance separation, and tells him:

"Don’t cry, my love. Be happy...Remember that God exists."

And the fact that she says this to a child that breaks my heart, but it's also a good reminder for all of us. Yeah, the world feels like a giant dumpster fire sometimes. It can feel unweildy and overwhelming and desperate. But even in the most desolate of situations, we can remember that God exists, and try to be happy. Change can come, despair can be dispelled, and things can get better. There can always be hope. 💜