Hope

“Even Now, I Still Believe for You”

Hope doesn’t always feel like confidence.

Sometimes it feels like getting out of bed when you’d rather hide.
Sometimes it’s doing the next right thing without clarity.
Sometimes it’s simply refusing to give up—quietly.

You don’t have to feel hopeful to still be moving forward.

Hope can be tired.
Hope can be cautious.
Hope can whisper instead of shout.

You’ve been disappointed before. You’ve prayed things that didn’t unfold the way you imagined. And that makes hope feel fragile.

But hope isn’t pretending everything will work out.
It’s trusting that this isn’t the end of the story.

Even now—especially now—hope is doing its work beneath the surface.

You don’t have to force it.
You don’t have to hype yourself up.

Just don’t dismiss the small signs of life trying to emerge.

Tiny hope counts.
Quiet hope counts.
Borrowed hope counts too.

If you can’t believe today, let me believe with you.

Companion Prayer / Reflection

Prayer:
“God, hold hope for me when mine feels thin.”

Reflection Prompt:
What small step forward am I still taking, even without certainty?