Dear Editor,
Two weeks ago, much of the world welcomed the new year with celebration. This coming week, many Americans will welcome a notable individual as the next president, and most of us hope that the new administration is successful in their domestic and foreign agendas.
Optimism is being hopeful about the future and viewing challenges as opportunities for growth. We can have hope for the future, even in the face of life’s challenges that contribute to our woundedness.
The world in which we live leaves us afflicted.
The 15-month-long Israel-Hamas war, the conflict persisting from Russia’s February 2022 invasion of Ukraine, and the decades-long US-China competition that fuels both South Korea’s and Japan’s upgrading of military capabilities are all reflections of our wounded world.
Here, at home, other kinds of wars are being fought: centuries of racism, income inequality, inadequate healthcare, pro-choice versus pro-life perspectives, fossil fuels or renewable energy, the slippery slopes of election interference, and even how we prepare for and respond to unprecedented natural disasters.
Our woundedness can’t be readily assuaged so that we can simply feel better. It’s part of life. All such warring, whether meted out by others or self-inflicted, contributes to both a personal and collective sense of pain and vulnerability. To be human is to carry wounds.
So, amidst these afflictions, we are challenged to remain hopeful. If the wounds Jesus suffered for us through his crucifixion teach us something, it’s that hopefulness, a fundamental belief in goodness, can be found in anything. To foster hopefulness, we need not challenge ourselves to accomplish extraordinary things. Mother Teresa told us, “Not all of us can do great things, but we can do small things with great love.”
There it is — it’s human to hurt. But our woundedness can contribute to personal growth. It is through loving others that we discover the antidote for our pain. And the more we love, the more we engender hope.
Peter Wibell, Rutledge