It didn’t cost much. I bought it who knows where, who knows how long ago, because it fit with the tagline under which everything I write and speak about fits: Hope-that-glows-in-the-dark.

Rustic…as hope sometimes is…it boasted a small LED light operated by a tiny battery, and a small tag added to the picture with its simple message, “Never give up.” Never give up, period. And never give up on hope.

In my attempt to capture a picture of it to use for a blog post like this, my hope broke.

The resin word shattered off the light housing and the bottom of the E fell off, making it look more like hopf, which is the sound we sometimes make when we’re unsure hope is strong enough to carry us through whatever has its grip on our heart.

I stared at the broken hope, conscious that I was looking behind the scenes of the lives of the kind of people and devastating crises that I wrote about in Ragged Hope: Surviving the Fallout of Other People’s Choices. Those whose circumstances make hope seem like it’s beaten up, marred, not communicating what it once did.

The top picture was taken today. Hope was restored with a little super-glue and time.

What does that say to you, in a symbolic way, about the methods God uses to refurbish, repair, restore your hope when it begins to show its wear?

It’s a picture I won’t forget.