[Jesus said,] “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33 NIV)
Flashing red and blue lights in my rearview mirror can trigger panic in me.
Immediately, my mind goes to: What did I do wrong?
Even when I discover that the police officer is simply reminding me that it’s getting dark and I need to turn on my headlights, I’ve already braced myself for bad news—a speeding ticket, a fine, a hit on my driving record.
Sometimes life feels a little like those flashing lights.
We look at the world and see so much that is difficult: division, violence, war, hunger, homelessness, economic uncertainty, people struggling with loneliness or simply trying to make it through another day. And then there are our own personal struggles, the things we worry about, the losses we carry, the relationships that are complicated, and the questions we don’t have answers for.
It can be overwhelming.
And it can test our faith.
And it can cause us to panic.
One thing I’ve learned in studying the teachings of Jesus is that Jesus doesn’t pretend suffering isn’t real. Jesus himself tells his disciples, “In this world you will have trouble.” He doesn’t offer them a promise that everything will be easy.
But also – he doesn’t stop there.
“Take heart! I have overcome the world.”
Yes, there is trouble.
And also yes, there is hope.
I don’t think that means just putting on a happy face or convincing ourselves that everything will work out exactly the way we want.
Hope can look directly at suffering and still believe that suffering isn’t the whole story.
Hope is the darkness of the cross – with the light of the resurrection.
The cross is real. The suffering is real. The grief is real. But the cross isn’t the end of the story.
Resurrection is.
That doesn’t make the difficult things disappear. If only!
But it does change the way we look at them.
It reminds us that death doesn’t get the final word, that brokenness doesn’t have to be permanent, and that, even in the darkest places, God’s love is still present.
“I look up to the hills, but where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.” (Psalm 121)
Sometimes “looking up” can sound like we’re being told to ignore what’s happening around us. I don’t think that’s what faith asks of us.
Looking up doesn’t mean looking away.
Maybe it simply means lifting our eyes long enough to remember that the crisis immediately in front of us isn’t the whole horizon.
And often, hope comes in very simple, ordinary ways.
A neighbor checking on someone who lives alone.
A smile or a kind word when it would be just as easy to ignore or even criticize that person.
A phone call to a friend – just to say hi.
Patience offered – when acting out of frustration would be easier.
A meal shared.
A listening ear.
We aren’t asked to fix everything.
But we can bring hope.
There are plenty of flashing lights in the world right now. Some of them deserve our attention.
Some of them may even be warning us that something needs to change.
Or that change is coming.
But maybe we don’t have to live in a constant state of panic.
We can look up.
We can remember that the story isn’t over.
Fear doesn’t win. Love does.
That’s God’s promise – and it’s for you.
And then we can look around again—with a little more hope, a little more courage, and perhaps a little more willingness to be a small light for someone else along the way.
Let your light shine.
