More Than Just a Trim
Finding Hope in Hard Times (and the Barber’s Chair)
If you have been refreshing this page over the last few weeks wondering where on earth I had got to, I owe you an apology. These past few weeks have been, to put it mildly, challenging. They have been complicated, exhausting, and frankly, a bit of a blur.
I sat down to write a dozen times, but the cursor just blinked at me, mocking my inability to form a coherent sentence. It has taken me a while to work out not just how to write, but what to write about when the storm clouds are thickest.
In the end, I realised there was only one subject that mattered. I am writing about hope.
The Danger of “Losing the Plot”
The realisation hit me the other day when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I decided it was high time to visit my barber for a pre-Christmas cut. This wasn’t just vanity; it was a preventative measure. I needed to get tidied up before those who love me (and random strangers walking down the street) started to whisper that I might be “losing the plot” and had given up on myself entirely.
I can confirm, for the record, that I have not given up. All is well. Or, at least, I am presentable again.
My barber is brilliant. Not only does he intuitively understand my hair and somehow manage to make me look amazing (a miracle in itself), but we also enjoy talking. It’s a safe space, that chair. You’re caped up, unable to move, and there’s something about the hum of the clippers that invites conversation.
We started with the usual pleasantries. “How’s it going?” he asked, scissors poised.
Now, usually, this is part of the British social contract where I am legally required to answer, “Yeah, not bad thanks, you?” regardless of whether my house is on fire or I’ve just won the lottery. But on this particular Thursday, I decided to break protocol. I decided to give him the lowdown. I told him exactly what these past few weeks have been like—the challenges, the exhaustion, the messy reality of it all.
He stopped cutting for a moment, met my eyes in the mirror, and asked a question that stopped me in my tracks.
“So,” he said, “how do you, as a man of faith, cope with all that?”
The Myth of the Perfect Life
It was a profound question. I think, deep down, there is a misconception that being a Christian acts as a sort of divine forcefield against trouble.
I looked at him and said simply, “By prayer, and by hope.”
I explained that nowhere in the Bible does it promise us a perfect, easy life. There is no “Get Out of Jail Free” card for suffering. In fact, Jesus was incredibly explicit about the opposite.
“I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.”
John 16:33 (NLT)
I told my barber that being a follower of Jesus guarantees that we will have trials. We will have storms. We will face times that make us want to pull the duvet over our heads and not come out. The Bible is painfully honest about the human experience. It doesn’t shy away from the valleys.
But—and this is the glorious “but”—the Bible also says that when we fall on these times, we are not left to navigate them by our own fragile compass. We are invited to seek the Lord. We are invited to petition Him, to bang on the door of Heaven and ask for His guidance, His wisdom, His peace, and His love. We can ask Him to work in the situation, even when it looks irretrievable.
Hope is Not Wishful Thinking
This is where the concept of “hope” gets a bit muddled in our modern world. When we say, “I hope it doesn’t rain,” or “I hope my team wins,” we are expressing a wish. It’s a desire with no guarantee.
Biblical hope is different. It is robust. It has weight.
I explained to my barber that my hope is anchored in the promises God has given me. It is based on what I know He has spoken. It is the absolute certainty that there is light at the end of the tunnel, not because I can see it yet, but because I know who built the tunnel.
I know He won’t leave me. Ever.
“For God has said, ‘I will never fail you. I will never abandon you.’”
Hebrews 13:5 (NLT)
My hope tells me that He is working things out for my good, even when the evidence in front of my eyes suggests chaos. It tells me that although I don’t feel Him or see Him right now, He is right there. He is always doing. He is always active. He is always loving.
I was able to say, without a shadow of a doubt, that God is with me in these situations. I don’t know the what, the why, the where, or the how of the outcome. But I do know the Who. And because I know Him, I can give the burden to Him, and in exchange, He gives me His peace.
A Follower of “The Way”
I guess that is what it truly means to be a “Christian.” Actually, I prefer the term “Follower of Jesus,” or better yet, like the early church in the book of Acts, a “Follower of The Way.”
“Christian” can sometimes feel like a label, a box you tick on a census. “The Way” implies movement. It implies a journey. It implies that we are walking a path that has already been trodden by our Saviour.
My faith has become abundant not in my ability to do or solve these things. Let’s be honest, my ability to solve complex life problems is often about as effective as a chocolate teapot. My faith is abundant in the fact that He is with me in all I do and all I go through.
“When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you.”
Isaiah 43:2 (NLT)
He is for me.
It may not get easier today. It may not even get easier tomorrow. Of course, I would love it to—I am not a masochist. But that’s not really the point. The point is about leaning on Him. It is about trusting in Him. It is about having my hope built on nothing more—and nothing less—than His promises, His character, and who He is.
Hope vs. The Odds
At our Sunday service today,. we were given questions to chat about with our neighbour. It’s a way of socialising and helping to get to know one another, though it can be terrifying if you’re naturally introverted!
A Note to You, The Reader
So, dear reader, if you have stumbled across these ramblings, know that it is not an accident.
A Reflection & Call to Action
Something to Ponder: Take a moment this week to look at where your “hope” is currently deposited. Is it in your job security? Your relationship status? Your own ability to control your environment? What happens if those things shake?
A Simple Prayer: Lord, I admit that life feels heavy right now. I confess that I have often placed my hope in things that are fragile. Today, I choose to shift my focus. I choose to place my hope in Your character and Your promises. I may not see the answer yet, but I trust the One who holds the answer. Be my anchor in this storm. Amen