Anticipation and Disappointment Part 6
February 20, 2026
Anticipation and Disappointment Part 6
Few things wound us as profoundly as lost hope. The collapse of anticipation into disappointment, then into despair, can fracture our inner world.
When we hold high hopes, and they come crashing down, the impact can plunge us into despair or even devastation. In response, we may lash out in anger, yelling, blaming, becoming bitter, or becoming vengeful. Or we may collapse inward, withdrawing into sadness, tears, lethargy, and hopelessness. Sometimes we numb ourselves through denial or distraction. Often, we do all of these. These are not moral failures; they are human responses to loss.
But if we get hung up on one of these, we cannot find hope again.
When a cherished hope dies, it is experienced as a death. We grieve not only physical losses, but also the death of dreams, identities, expectations, and hopes for ourselves or others. Yet the loss of hope need not condemn us to permanent despair. The crucial question becomes: How do we meet this loss?
The answer is to treat the loss of hope as we would any death, by grieving. Grieving allows us to accept what has been lost and to transcend suffering rather than endure it endlessly. Grief does not restore what was taken but makes life possible again without it. An essential part of grieving is compensation, which in this case is the creative reorganization of life around what is no longer there, even when what is lost is hope itself.
Consider the loss of a limb. The limb is gone and must be grieved. But grieving does not end with sorrow; it includes imagining and building a life without that limb. Those who do not remain trapped in despair discover new ways to function, adapt, and even to flourish. They compensate for the loss, not by denial, but by courageous creativity.
The loss of hope must be approached in the same way. Peace is restored not by resurrecting the old hope, but by generating new hope shaped by reality rather than fantasy.
Lulu Gribbin, now 16, embodies this truth. After losing a leg and an arm in a 2024 shark attack, she worked with professionals to gradually accept her loss. Through intensive physical therapy, advanced prosthetics, virtual reality training, and surgical procedures such as Targeted Muscle Reinnervation, she rebuilt her capacity for life. Yet the decisive factor was her relentless determination to reclaim independence, her desire to drive, to compete in Paralympic sports, and to serve others. She founded the Lulu Strong Foundation to help other amputees access similar resources. Her story reveals how grief, when fully engaged, can give rise to transformed hope.
Lost hope follows a similar arc. We move through shock and anger, bargaining and sadness, (not necessarily in that order) until we arrive at acceptance. From there, we turn toward new pathways of meaning and possibility. We do not return to who we were, but we continue, often wiser, deeper, and more grounded than before.
Spiritual practice: Reflect on a time when you lost hope. Did you heal from it? If so, what steps did you take? Were you conscious of the process, or did it unfold intuitively?
Self-inquiry: What might block you from fully grieving a loss of hope?
Prayer:
Dear God, In those dark moments of lost hope, “I call upon Your name. You answer me and show me mighty things I have never known.” Amen. — Jeremiah 33:3
