Naomi Mehl is one of those people who carries herself with grace.  She is a graceful friend and a graceful teacher to her high school Spanish students.  She is also one of those people who doesn’t talk to talk, so when she talks, we listen.  Thank you for your words Naomi.  And truly Happy St. Valentines.

For the majority of the 25 years I have been living, I have been single.  This has led me to be both the voluntary and involuntary recipient of all kinds of relationship advice. From parents, relatives, friends, the media, the 15 year-old high school students I teach; they probably all have rained their relational wisdom down upon me at some point.  I am sure, given where we currently fall on the calendar and the looming presence of that-holiday-that-shall-not-be-named, you too have been hearing all kinds of thoughts on relationships, regardless of your status.

My personal least-favorite has always been something to the effect of “Don’t worry.  It will happen when you least expect it,” followed by some long tangential story about how a friend they knew was perpetually fed up with being single, had some sort of epiphany, and magically decided to be a confident independent woman, only to be swept off her feet by an amazing partner the next day.  And as a nice finish, they will end with saying “So you just need to be confident and not anticipate it.”  The reason why this is my least favorite advice, though I don’t totally disagree with the observation, is because it addresses one of the core things I’m not good at: releasing control of something I want.  I understand that waiting and watching (at times despairingly, frantically, cynically) for a significant other is like waiting and watching for water to come to a boil.  It generally only makes the process seem to run less and less on my timeline.  But I did it anyways, because I couldn’t let go of control.  I couldn’t really believe that finding hope didn’t necessarily mean finding a great relationship but could mean finding contentment and belief in what I already had.

I had to ditch this common belief that hope is what you do while trying to get something (or someone) you want.  All throughout high school I passively waited for some boy to notice me.  I hoped, I waited, I fixated, I wondered, and I didn’t get anywhere.  I also didn’t end up being very confident or content either.  For all the effort I was putting into hoping for a relationship, I wasn’t very hopeful.  I certainly didn’t see how much hope could be found in the person I already was.

Finding hope has never been a one time thing.  If I am going to acknowledge that finding hope is a choice and action, it is definitely one I end up having to chose every day.  Every day I chose whether or not I will be open, whether or not I will be present with myself and with others around me, and whether or not I will be attentive to both the pleasant and the painful in my life.

Choosing this more and more often has also led me to realize that finding hope is a process that doesn’t entirely rely on me or on the perfection of my actions.  There have been plenty of days when I was closed up and closed off, yet hope still entered in.  There were plenty of days when I made the wrong move, got hurt or hurt someone else, yet forgiveness came.  There were plenty of days when anxiety about a relationship consumed me, but it still turned out okay.

Again, as we find ourselves in the season of high romantic expectations and unsolicited advice, may we chose to be open and present.  May we find hope in that present place.  May hope enter in.