(Thoughts from chapter nine of Things We’ve Handed Down: Twelve Letters I Leave for You, based on the book, Hope Has It’s Reasons, by Rebecca Pippert.)
Hope.
Not the flimsy kind of hope we tape onto our lives like a bandage. Not false hope that dissolves when life gets hard. Not hype. Not denial.
Real hope.
Reliable hope.
Lasting hope.
That’s what I longed for when disappointment darkened the edges of my story. That’s what I found when I read Rebecca Pippert’s Hope Has Its Reasons.
She didn’t offer a quick fix. She didn’t pretend life was easy. She simply pointed toward Jesus—the One who meets us in our mess, who understands our ache, who walks with us through suffering, and who still says: “There is hope.”
That book gave me language for my longings. It reminded me that hope isn’t just possible—it’s personal. Hope has a name. Hope has scars. Hope entered our brokenness and didn’t run away.
That’s why I wrote chapter 9 of Things We’ve Handed Down—to pass that same hope to others. Not as a distant concept, but as a companion for real life.
Because I know what it’s like to feel the weight of unanswered prayers, unmet expectations, unhealed wounds. I know what it’s like to wonder if hope is just for other people.
But I’ve learned this: Hope doesn’t deny pain. Hope walks through pain. Hope sees the cross and still chooses to trust.
Jesus doesn’t offer escape. He offers presence. He doesn’t remove every storm. He anchors us in the storms.
So when you feel let down by life, when your heart is tired of trying, remember—
Hope has its reasons.
Jesus came.
Jesus knows.
Jesus stays.
In Him, we find the kind of hope that doesn’t disappoint. Not because everything gets fixed, but because everything is being redeemed.
That’s the hope I received.
That’s the hope I’m handing down.
