Need Hope? Borrow Some.

(My church in North Carolina has an Advent blog,, where they ask church members to write a post for each day. This is the post that I wrote.)


Two things I said I would never participate in were:

1. Taking medicine

2. Going to counseling

And I did both for an entire year when I had my break down with anxiety and depression.

(Side Note: I’d be willing to wager a large sum of money that if you 'actually' ever found yourself in a deep enough pit, with no sign of light, that you’ll do just about anything to get out alive.)

A local pastor in town suggested a Christian counselor to me that he had a close relationship with through different church circles. His name was Dr. David Dupere and his practice is presently based out of Ocala, Florida. The crazy coincidence was that Dr. Dupere (Dr. D) had helped Ashley, my wife, through a similar season in her life; so I knew from the beginning that I could somewhat trust this guy, simply based on the specific people who spoke so highly of him.  

I've had a hard time trusting “professionals,” so I was very skeptical at my first appointment with Dr. Dupere. Therefore, I didn’t hear too much in that first meeting, but the one thing I did hear I have never forgotten. During that first session with him, Dr. Dupere said to me,

“ Zach, I know you’re completely hopeless about your situation right now, but I’m not. So, borrow my hope.”

Can I really borrow something like ‘hope’ from someone? I know I can borrow money from someone. I know I can borrow someone’s truck. But can I actually borrow hope?

The Old Testament and especially the New Testament is gushing with people who were in such close relationship with one another, that the Bible describes them as sharing even the same heart and mind. If someone can somehow share his or her heart and mind, maybe I could share someone’s hope? 

And that is exactly what I experienced with the Lord healing me during that crazy season of life. I gave up. I decided that I would completely give myself over to a few trusted, Jesus-fearing people around me. Even though I didn’t believe it myself, I chose to believe their words that the “night was nearly over; the day was almost here.” I chose to not listen to the naysayers and listen to the few telling me “though I had fallen, I would rise. Though I sat in darkness, the Lord would be my Light.”

I borrowed their hope. And it wasn’t long until hope was rising in me. And it wasn’t that much longer before I started offering hope to others.

Today, I find myself about to begin school again, in order to become one of those ‘professional’ counselors that I didn’t trust years ago. Funny thing this life is.

Here's to borrowing hope this season,