The Audacity of Hope - When Trust Hurts and Faith Stands Alone

There are moments when hope feels like a fragile thread, hanging by the thinnest of strands. We reach for it in the darkness, even when everything around us is falling apart. It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t feel right. But still, we cling to it—because hope isn’t just a choice; it’s an act of defiance.

Hope is the audacity to believe when all you see is despair.

It is trusting God when the silence is deafening.

It is daring to smile when tears feel like they’ve taken over your soul.

In a world that often promises more pain than relief, hope stands as an act of rebellion. It is the quiet scream of a soul refusing to surrender to the darkness, even when it seems like there’s no way out. But the question remains: How do we hope when nothing makes sense? When we’re battered by loss, when our prayers feel unanswered, when the storm refuses to subside?

This is an article of hope. A hope that doesn’t ignore the pain but chooses to walk through it—guided by a trust that whispers, “Even if…” Even if things never change, we still trust. Even if the answer is “no,” we still worship.

Hope.
That quiet, trembling, stubborn thing we hold onto when nothing else makes sense.

It’s the audacity to believe—still—after the loss.

To trust—still—after the silence.

To smile—still—through the tears.

But what is hope, really?
Is it naïve optimism?
Is it foolishness dressed in faith’s clothing?

Or…
Could hope be the most courageous thing we ever do?

Hope is Rebellion
Hope is rebellion.
It is the wild, irrational refusal to let despair win.

It’s the quiet scream of a soul that won’t let go of God—no matter how long the night lasts.

Hope is waking up with tears in your eyes and still whispering,

“God is still good.”
Even when the bank account is empty.
Even when the test results are bad.
Even when the crib is still empty… or the grave still fresh.

Hope is not the absence of sorrow—
It is the presence of trust.
“Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.”

— Job 13:15
“Say, ‘O My servants who have transgressed against themselves [by sinning], do not despair of the mercy of Allah. Indeed, Allah forgives all sins.’”

— Qur’an 39:53
Hope doesn’t deny the pain.
It walks through it—with eyes fixed on a promise.

When Everything Falls Apart
How do you still hope—
When the diagnosis is terminal?
When the marriage is falling apart?
When your faith is hanging by a thread?
How do you hope—
When the job is gone?
When your prayers feel like echoes?
When the people you loved walked away… and never looked back?

This is not easy hope.
Not Sunday-morning, “God is good all the time” hope.

This is the hope that whispers:
“Even if…”
Even if He doesn’t heal… I’ll still believe.

Even if the answer is “no”… I’ll still worship.

Even if the pain doesn’t stop… I’ll still hope.

Waiting with God
So ask yourself:
Will you still trust Him if nothing changes?
Will you still believe if the healing never comes?

Will you still wait if the silence stretches into years?

“For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all.

Who hopes for what they already have? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.”

— Romans 8:24-25
“Allah does not burden a soul beyond that it can bear…”

— Qur’an 2:286
If you're carrying it, God believes you're strong enough.

And if you're not—He is strong in you.

What if faith is not proven in the miracle…

But in the waiting?
What if you’re not waiting for God to show up—

But waiting with God, who never left?
Maybe hope is not found in answers.
Maybe hope is found in presence.
In the knowing that even when everything falls apart—

God is still near.
That His mercy still covers you.
That His grace still chooses you.
That your name is still etched on His palms.
Dare to Hope Again
So tell me:
What would it look like for you to hope again?

What would it feel like to believe that joy is still possible?

That healing is still coming?
That God hasn’t forgotten your name, your tears, your dreams?

Can you imagine what would change…
If you gave yourself permission to hope again?

Because your story isn’t over.
Because you are not too broken.
Because God is not finished.
So stand in the ashes and dare to whisper:
“This is not the end.”
Dare to trust.
Dare to believe.
Dare to break—
And still call Him faithful.
One Final Whisper
Dear reader,
You don’t have to have it all figured out.

You don’t have to pretend.
You don’t have to carry the weight alone.

It’s okay to be vulnerable.
It’s okay to question.
It’s okay to cry.
Just don’t give up.
Don’t let go of that thread of hope.
Don’t silence your soul for the sake of appearing strong.

You are seen.
You are heard.
You are loved—fully, deeply, eternally.

And somewhere in the silence, in the storm,
In the slow dawn after the longest night…

God is still there.
Still writing.
Still redeeming.
Still holding you.
A Simple Prayer for the Weary Soul
God,
I don’t understand everything.
And sometimes, I’m scared.
But I know You are here.
Not just in my joy, but in my ache.
Not just in the healing, but in the hurting.
So I hold onto You.
Even when my grip is weak.
Even when my heart is heavy.
Remind me, Lord,
That this is not the end.
That You are near.
And that somehow,
In You,
Hope still lives.
Amen.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
I am no theologian.
Not a pastor, a priest, or an imam.
I’m just Puobabangna—
That man from Eggu, in the Upper West Region of Ghana.

What my inspiration—
which I believe comes from God Almighty—directs, I write.

This piece isn’t for theologians alone.

It’s for the grieving.
The mother still waiting.
The father quietly breaking.
The young person questioning everything.
The tired soul.
The silent sufferer.
Is that you?
Have you been walking around with wounds no one sees?

Is your smile just a curtain?
Have you mastered the art of saying, “I’m fine,”

when you're falling apart inside?
If so, this is your permission slip:
Be vulnerable.
Be raw.
Be real.
And still… be hopeful.
Because even in the chaos—
Even when there are no words left—
God is near.
Selah.
#Puobabangna

By Victor Raul Puobabangna from Eggu, in the Upper West Region of Ghana