Hoping When There Is None

How can we choose hope in a situation that is hopeless?  The structure of hoping derived from the psychology of hope offers some real guidance in this matter.

In a genuinely hopeless situation, you really can't get there from here.  In the ICU, we first hoped that we might get Anne back as she was before her illness.  Quickly it became clear that this goal was no longer available to us.  It wasn't a conscious process, really, but we chose different goals to fulfill our larger purpose.  If you can't get there from here, then you have to do something to change the "there."

That larger purpose hadn't changed--to love and care for Anne no matter what.  We needed, however, to re-frame the ways we could live out that larger purpose.  Instead of working for restoration, we now sought a way forward and beyond the limits of her condition.  

At first that goal was going to be life in a care facility.  Later, that goal became making her comfortable and stable enough that she could die at home.  We were able to accomplish that goal.

When things are hopeless, it may be necessary to seek alternative pathways to the future.  That is often very difficult for folks under stress.  Thinking about alternatives requires flexibility and creativity.  Crisis, as we have noted in earlier entries, narrows our thinking and imaginative capacities.  I was fortunate to have been studying ways to reach Alzheimer's sufferers with effective pastoral care.  Some of those methods, such as "memory tunneling," were useful in making connections below the conscious level with Anne.

Of course, we were in a hospital intensive care unit.  We received massive amounts of medical help and personal support.  We also gave help in the process.  We did all we could to give the physicians accurate updates and to assist the nurses whenever possible.  We found ourselves doing a fair bit of coordinating among the various specialists--who often talked to one another by way of charting.  We encouraged the student nurses who cared for Anne and taught them a bit about the things we were trying to accomplish.  Help flows both ways along the same path.  The more we gave, the more we were able to accept.

And we had to re-frame our own identities in this situation.  Were we family members of the victim?  Yes, but we couldn't remain in that status.  We wouldn't be relegated to the waiting room.  We saw ourselves as part of the team of care-givers.  When that was no longer possible, we saw ourselves as grateful former caregivers who had done all we could.  We saw ourselves as advocates for Anne's care and comfort.  And we remembered that we were witnesses to the healing and comforting power of Jesus Christ in our lives.

None of it saved Anne from dying.  That was beyond hope in this life.  But that doesn't mean we were without any means at all.  Looking at the various elements of hope can equip us to make choices that will move us forward.  Hope is present confidence in a better future.  We can do specific and concrete things to build that confidence.