Hope is one of those words in our culture that is essentially meaningless. It’s often used to project a good feeling or a wishful outcome. The aspiration is baseless. Not rooted in anything other than human sentiment. On its own, this hope can’t deliver, no matter how well-meaning it is. Therefore, some of us end up believing our lives are left to some whim of fate or cosmic force.

So many of us question our existence. We wonder why we’re here. What our purpose is.

We often wander. From job to job. Relationship to relationship. Friendship to friendship. City to city. Church to church. We’re trying to figure things out. Make sense of who we are.

Difficulty often brings disorientation. Questions. Wonderings. Sometimes our thoughts are in conflict with related emotions. At other times, they are in conflict with unrelated ones. Either way, our disorientation can cause us to feel like we’re swirling out of control. We might wonder where God is and what He’s doing. Does He still rescue?

Many of us are disconnected from our true selves, the person God created us to be. We sense it emotionally, inside us, and relationally, as we interact with others. But we’re not sure why. We’re also not sure how to change it.

Do you believe your life has value? When you look in a mirror, how do you see yourself? How does it influence the way you relate to yourself? How do you treat yourself? Is it with criticism, or is it with love and kindness?

It’s true, Jesus is not inviting us into something that requires us to do any-thing, but to experience Him. To be with Him. To spend time with Him. Not to accomplish anything. Or to achieve. Or worse, to strive to be someone or something we’re not. He’s simply inviting us to be with Him.

In Greek, kindness means God’s “affection,” “generosity,” “gentle-ness,” and “goodness.” Can you imagine God relating to you like this?

What does the compassion of God look like in action? How does it sound?

Forgiveness is a word we hear a lot these days, but the practice of it often puts us off.

Whether we are aware of it or not, our Western psyche revolves around this self-forged, self-proclaimed autonomy.

There’s a lot of anxiety and passion everywhere we turn. It’s not surprising that many of us want to move on. I think we’re all aware that our lives are not as tightly controlled by us as we previously believed. We’re living in the strained uncomfortableness of our times.

Notice how the psalmist talks with God — with passion, specificity, and emotion. Yes, that’s right, full emotion. There’s nothing placid or stoic about his expressions, questions, or intonations. So I’m wondering why do we sanitize ours? Why do we pray politely?

So often it seems we opt for the safe life. One we can control. Appear successful in. Convince others we belong. But things don’t always work out the way we plan. We can feel less than, left out, or wounded. If this happens, we can also experience something else — the longing for something more.

God is with us. He personally knows us. Not from distance, but with us. This means we’re not combating the circumstances or questions in our life on our own. That’s how we begin to think when we’re looking down. The psalmist is convinced God knows us 100 percent.