The Rope and the Pit of Lions

It will always come to a point where your hope will be tested, that no matter how well you try to dress it with positivity, it will always, always find an excuse to be weak. Because that’s easier. Yes, it is way easier to just let go of the rope than hang on, especially when your hands start to burn and splinter. 

“No one expects me to be strong in this kind of situation,” your shaky hope will say, and then you’ll find, without much struggle, your whole being agreeing to it.

“I have every right to let go,” again, your shaky hope will reason, and before you know it, you will completely lose grip of the rope that’s supposed ro be keeping you steady. 

And you fall…

In a pit of desolation. You’ll find out that it’s okay to be alone sometimes… but only until it becomes too dark. And from the shadows of the pit you’re in, you’ll hear them. 

The silent taunting and growling. The sly shuffling of feet as they move towards you. 


With their eyes glinting in the darkness, all hungry and pleased to see you. And that flickering hope you have will tell you that this is the end. There’s no escape. This is your home now. Here with the lions. 

And so as they step closer and closer, you’ll let them take you. “This is the end,” you’ll say. “I’ve let go and this is the way.”

Yes, dear hope, we can end the story here. But do you really want to?



People often think that pausing is a sign of weakness–an indication of reaching the end of your strength…of not having enough power and will to fight your battles. 

I don’t think that’s true all the time. 

In fact, I believe that every pause holds a certain power. That it is not a sign of weakness, but of strength. Because only strong people can admit to themselves that they need to take a break. So they can start again. They don’t work thoughtlessly until they’ve ran out of energy so they can just stop where they are. Rather, they pause so they can gather the strength and will to keep going. 

A pause is not a stop. It is not saying “I give up,” but saying “let me think of a way to get through this.” Yes, sometimes it would mean “I’m tired,” but it will never be too tired to say “I can no longer go on.”

A pause never says “I quit.”

So can HOPE pause, too? 

My answer is yes, as long as it desires to keep hoping. Because when HOPE stops, LOVE ends. And what valid reason do we have to stop loving?