How to Cope When You’re Feeling Hopeless

A Guest Blog by Kate Motaung

“We’re out of options. There’s nothing left we can do.”

We knew the day would come eventually—but that didn’t diminish the force of the blow. After four consecutive years of chemotherapy, my mom had run out of strains to try.

Game over.

I sat crumpled on one side of her queen-sized bed, my younger sister hunched over the other. Mom had put up one heck of a fight—but it wasn’t enough. At age 59, she had been defeated; the cancer had won.

The bright lights on the final scoreboard taunted me in the silence of Mom’s bedroom that summer morning in 2011. I averted my eyes, searching for something other than suffering.

My vision blurred with tears, I glanced up at the window and saw blue sky. I wanted to make like a bird and fly away, carefree into the distance. Anywhere but here.

My vision blurred with tears, I glanced up at the window and saw blue sky. I wanted to make like a bird and fly away, carefree into the distance. Anywhere but here. Click to Tweet

Anywhere but here.

But Jesus’ words from the gospel of John penetrated my wandering mind: “You do not want to leave too, do you?” (John 6:67)

Peter’s response became my anthem: “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.”

To whom shall I go?

This question both haunted and rescued me.

As much as I craved escape, I knew I had no better place to be than safe in the providence of my Redeemer.

When my mom was first diagnosed with breast cancer nine years prior to that awful morning, I fell apart emotionally and spiritually.

My spiritual pulse flatlined. I wasn’t angry with God, I just became . . . neutral. I lost all desire to pray or read my Bible.

I fell into a pit of spiritual lethargy and apathy. At the time I lived 8,000 miles away from my mom. I was supposed to be serving as a missionary in Cape Town, South Africa—but how could I possibly lead women’s Bible studies or disciple college students when I couldn’t even bring myself to open my Bible?

How could I tell others that God could be trusted when I wasn’t even sure I believed it myself?

I was convinced that my mom was going to die, and fully persuaded that I would die too if I lost her. There was no way I would cope if she was gone.

Fast forward nine years later, and her time was up. After falling twice in one night even with the aid of a walker, Mom decided to stop the chemo and let the cancer run its course.

All hope of survival was gone.

And it broke me.

My throat ran dry from the incessant silent screams within my soul.

And yet, as is often the case with the work of God, tiny green shoots sprung up from the dark soil of hardship.

There’s a surprising benefit to losing hope. When you reach the end of yourself, you realize that all you have is Christ.

There is a surprising benefit to losing hope. When you reach the end of yourself, you realize that all you have is Christ. Click to Tweet

Here are a few truths I learned after losing hope:

When You’ve Lost Hope: Remember You Have No Control Over Your Life or Anyone Else’s

This realization was at first quite disconcerting.

I wanted to be able to chart the course of my own future and make sure nothing harmed my loved ones.

But then I remembered—Jesus has power over life and death.

There was a certain freedom in remembering that life and death were not mine to maintain, nor did they happen haphazardly or without purpose.

Even better, the One who claimed victory over the grave promises even greater life to those who trust in Him—life everlasting. Life without sickness, goodbyes, mourning, or pain.

The One who claimed victory over the grave promises even greater life to those who trust in Him—life everlasting. Click to Tweet

When You’ve Lost Hope: Remember If You Belong to God, He Will Not Let You Go

“For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” – Romans 8:38-39

One blessing during that spiritually dry season I experienced was that my husband kept taking me to church.

Even when I didn’t feel like going, even when I cried every Sunday somewhere between the welcome and the benediction, he kept taking me to church.

The words of Timothy rang true: “If we are faithless, He remains faithful” (2 Timothy 2:13). God did remain faithful to me even when I refused to give Him the time of day.

Did I really believe that my stubbornness and fickle emotions could affect my Father’s love for me?

I also found comfort in the gospel of John, where Jesus says, “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand” (John 10:27-29).

No one can snatch them—not even cancer or death.

When You’ve Lost Hope: Remember Hope Isn’t Meant to Apply Only to What We Can See in this Life

One passage that comforted me perhaps more than any other during my mom’s illness came from 2 Corinthians:

“Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all” – 2 Corinthians 4:16-17

True hope buried deep within will reap fruit long after the rain and into the new tomorrow.

True hope buried deep within will reap fruit long after the rain and into the new tomorrow. Click to Tweet

When You’ve Lost Hope: Remember Hope Doesn’t Always Feel Light and Airy

When I picture hope, I imagine colorful balloons soaring in a cloudless blue sky. I associate hope with anticipation and expectation. I assume hope leads to happiness.

But Hebrews 6:19 says, “We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.”

Hope’s job is not to make me feel cheery and carefree.

Hope’s job is not to make me feel cheery and carefree. Hope’s job is to anchor me. Click to Tweet

Hope’s job is to anchor me. It grounds me. It keeps me close to the Rock of Ages. It hides me in His cleft. It protects me.

Hope for the Hopeless

To the world, it may have looked like my mom lost her battle to cancer. There were days covered in grief when I was tempted to believe it.

But deep down I knew the truth—the cancer didn’t win. My mom won, because her life was hidden in Christ, and He alone has the victory.

If your life is hidden in Christ, your hope is firm and secure—on the days you feel it, and even on the days you don’t.

If your life is hidden in Christ, your hope is firm and secure—on the days you feel it, and even on the days you don’t. Click to Tweet

No matter your circumstances, if Jesus is Lord of your life, He will not let your foot slip. His grace is sufficient, and His power is made perfect in weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9).

When the storms come, hold fast to the anchor of hope. Cling to Him—where else can you go?

– Kate Motaung

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