
The Dark Sea of Despair
Hope depends on faith to keep it afloat. It may be faith in yourself and your own ability to solve problems, it may be faith in God and His ultimate goodness, or it may be faith in technology or other means. No matter, if your boat of hope is not floating on faith, it is destined to be swamped and sunk by the first wave of fear, insecurity, disaster, or other unforeseen circumstance. Okay, so is hope based on faith a self-delusional foolishness? Who hasn’t had life circumstances dash all hope, perhaps temporarily, and send you to the bottom of a cold, dark sea of despair?

My own dream horse, Dressed for Tea.
I’ve been swamped by despair and hopelessness this month. After years of struggling with sick or lame horses, I finally found my perfect equine partner. An attractive Hanoverian mare, Dressed for Tea (Tea for short), came into my life because she was level-headed and had promise of being just the ticket to restore my lost confidence. Indeed, she did just that. This summer we returned to the show ring after more than a ten-year absence and even participated in a riding clinic with a well-known trainer. Then disaster struck about three weeks ago.

Icing down hoof
Tea came in very sore in both front feet. Laminitis. An affliction I had fought with another horse for years and even though I was on guard against it, here it was again. I hoped I had caught it in time with aggressive ice soaks, hoof packing, medication, and other veterinary treatment; alas, my blacksmith believes she probably has experienced rotation of the coffin bone and she is still very sore almost a month later. I blame myself. Could I have done more, sooner, faster? What if she is crippled for life? What if she is in chronic pain? What if I have to euthanize her? She is my Dream Horse, my “Heart Horse” as some people say.
Ironic, my dream horse is in crisis just as I published the newest addition to the Maryland Equestrian Novel series I write for Young Adults. Dream Horse is the title of the prequel. The short read was launched almost to the day that Tea first came in lame, and since then, the new book has–let’s be honest–languished a bit on the Amazon charts.
My greatest joys, biggest dreams, most uplifting hopes center around my horses and my writing (after family, of course). To have both side-lined so to speak at the same time felt as if I was cut off at the knees. I do realize these are minor problems in a world of truly life-threatening need and disasters, but seeing my horse in pain and struggling with whether I had cause for hope sent my emotions spiraling to the dark ocean depths of despair.
Which brings me back to the original question–is hope just foolishness if there is no tangible, intellectual, reasonable proof for having it? My first instinct was to feed my rational need for hope. I turned to the Internet to read all I could about laminitis and founder. What’s the percentage of horses who recover from it? How much rotation spells disaster? I wanted facts that would give me reason to hope.
But hope is not always built on facts and reason. I’d say, more often it is built on faith and trust–two things that are hard to get your hands around. The Bible in Hebrews 6:19 describes hope as an anchor:
We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and steadfast.
What does an anchor do? It holds an object firmly in place. And what is the soul? It is described as our heart, mind, body, and emotions. Hope therefore anchors and helps to keep you steady and grounded. Without hope, we flit off in dangerous directions or sink into a lifeless state.
The interesting thing about hope is that it’s made up of both desire and expectations. Think about it. Sometimes you desire something, but have no expectation you will get it. Likewise, you may expect something, but not desire it. That makes me wanting (desiring!) my horse to recover, without any real expectation that she will, an impotent desire without hope…without some measure of expectation that it will happen. We need both desire and expectation.
Hope is also resiliency. I love the quote from Rumi that expresses this quality of hope:
Where there is ruin, there is hope for treasure.
Here’s where the foolishness comes in. People who hope have to be a bit foolish, trudging through ruin looking for treasure. Maybe not looking, but at least not dismissing the possibility. They have to hold both their desire and their expectations in the face of facts that reason would tell them otherwise. Some would call this faith. Others, trust in God. I think it’s all of the above.
My grandmother had an expression, “Live in hope, you never die in despair!” This, I think, encapsulates the “foolishness” of hope, or faith, or trust. It is far better to have lived in hope, even if it were futile and fleeting, than to live with despair. Like faith, I would rather live with faith in God and goodness and find out in the end that I was wrong, than to live a faithless and miserable life (and find out I was right).
Resiliency also requires we reside in our despair, depression, treading water in the dark waters of the sea while we wait. Sometimes hope is not that strong as it struggles against overwhelming circumstances. We must let the dark have its time in order to let it pass through us and allow us to reach the other side. As Miriam Greenspan wrote in Healing Through the Dark Emotions:
“Don’t be afraid of your despair. Be gentle with yourself. Take your time with this journey. Let despair guide you to the self you need to birth, the meaning you need to make, the world you need to serve. Let it reward you with a resilient faith in life.”
There’s that word FAITH again. What does hope and faith look like? In Dickinson’s beautiful words,
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches on the soul —
For me, hope is not so much an anchor, but a buoy. It lifts and floats over the dark sea of emotions. Hope is

Writers’ Tears Whiskey
the foolish actions we take in the face of “the facts.” It is the parent of a struggling middle schooler who opens a college account despite poor reports, it is the patient lying in a hospital bed who fills out her entry form for a 10K race. In my case, it was walking out to the weed-infesting riding arena (it doesn’t take long for weeds to take over when not being used) and pulling by hand hundreds of weeds and then leveling the footing, preparing it for the day when I ride Tea down its centerline again. Hope is also sitting down alone in front of a blank screen and writing. Creating. Changing the course of things.
Give hope to get hope.
Thanks for listening.

Light through the dark tunnel
Hi LR, I posted to you on the post about the passing of Dressed for Tea (such a beautiful girl), and then I found this post today. Reading your words broke my heart for you and her….so grossly unfair. Unless someone has had their Dream or Heart horse and then lost them, they just cannot know the deep pain that lingers after their passing.
My Dream horse was killed in a violent way and I didn’t really get to say goodbye….that was 4 yrs ago and the pain is still with me.
Hi GM and thanks for taking a look around at some of my other posts. Yes, it is so unfair. My dad even told me today to give up on horses and not get another because I have had so much bad luck. I’m so sorry to hear yours was “killed in a violent way” which sounds so much more horrible.
Hi again LR, and thank you for replying. I’m very happy that I discovered your site, you are a very good writer! I did get another horse after my sweet boy’s death, but it didn’t work out for some of the reasons that you described in this post, and ended up re-homing him. I’m afraid that at this stage of my life (60’s) I am done with horses, at least as far as having one of my own. I do still occasionally ride, but it just isn’t the same without the bond that my Dream horse and I shared. But maybe in time, you will be able to find another sweet soul to love.
I’m happy you discovered my site as well!