Written by Rev Dr Ruth Gouldbourne.

It was the year I decided I was giving up hope for Lent.

A long-time sufferer of SAD, Lent always comes at an already tough time (so much so, a
colleague diagnosed me as suffering from LAD – Liturgical Affective Disorder), but that year
was proving particularly tough. I said, mainly as a joke, that I was giving up hope. But as
Lent progressed and various things went wrong, and my mood dipped ever lower and God
seemed ever further away, I realised that this wasn’t a joke. I really had given up hope. Things were getting worse and worse – climate chaos was increasing and nothing could be done
that was really helping, and those in power appeared to have no will to change things; the
economic news was worsening, and in various parts of Europe, the Far Right was gaining
power. Everywhere I looked, all that had given me hope in the past was failing me.

Gradually, it was borne in on me that what was going on in me was not the loss of hope. It
was the loss of optimism; optimism that things would improve, optimism that solutions that
had worked in the past would go on working, optimism that people could get themselves and
therefore the world sorted out if there was just sufficient goodwill, optimism that, because it
had worked out before, it would work out again, and that it would all be ok really.

And once I realised this, or rather, once it was spelled out to me, the space that had been
occupied by my optimism was opened up, and the energy that I had used in maintaining that
optimism even in the face of contradictory information became free for other things. And
what that space and energy allowed me to explore was a real hope which comes as gift;
hope rooted in who God is and what God is doing, hope centred on the One who is in it with
us, not constantly calling us to improve it (and, subtext, blaming us when we don’t), the One
who called us to see life and hope (otherwise referred to as the Kingdom) in a pinch of yeast
and a tiny seed, set loose and left to do their thing.

What I began to discover – and am only just glimpsing, if I am honest, is a Hope that is
nothing to do with optimism, seeing the best, looking on the bright side, and expecting it all
to work out. Instead, I am discovering a Hope that invites me to trust that God is working,
that I get to join in that work (note; join in, not do alone), that it is bigger and wider and
deeper than my life or my vision or even what I want to see happen – and that it is therefore
something I can dwell in, rather than something I need to take to situations of difficulty or
despair.

I would love to say that now I sail through the dark season and the SAD (and LAD) no longer
drag me down. But that wouldn’t be true. But I do know that once I let go of being hopeful,
Hope found me, and sustains me, even when I despair. It’s not that it leaves me with nothing
to do – there’s still plenty to do. But there is now enough energy to do it with because I am
not having to maintain a false front, even to myself, that I believe it will all be ok. It’s no
longer my business whether it will be ok or not. My business is to see what Hope is doing,
and join in…mix in the yeast, plant the seed. It may work, it may not; that’s God’s job. And
She’s better at her work than I am….

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✏️ Ruth Gouldbourne is Minister of Grove Lane Baptist Church in Cheadle Hulme..

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