Day 34: Optimism or Foxes

Thank you, God, for optimism.

Okay, I wrote those first words and already had questions for myself. If you know me, you know I love questions. And this one came quickly: Is there a difference between optimism and hope? What do you think? I’m not entirely sure I know the answer.

A quick Google search suggests that optimism is a general belief that things will turn out well, while hope is the belief that you can work toward a positive outcome or goal. For the sake of time—and to move this journal along—I can accept that distinction.

But now I’m wrestling with a deeper spiritual question: Do we have optimism in Christ or hope in Christ? I think it’s easy to settle for optimism—believing that God will work everything out for good without much effort on our part. But hope? Hope invites participation. It calls us to put in the work of following Christ, of showing up with faith and action. (People have been arguing about this forever.)

Still, today, I thank God for optimism.

Because over the past few days, I’ve watched the floodwaters rise outside my back window at the parsonage. What started as a small concern has grown, especially as I’ve learned more about the devastation others are experiencing. And the question that lingers is: What good can come from a flood?

I don’t really have an answer. But yesterday, I saw a groundhog swim before hanging out in my backyard. This morning, I watched a fox casually stroll through the yard. My wife said, “Take a picture and put it in your gratitude journal.” (No picture was taken—it’s a short stroll across my yard.)

Maybe that’s not much, but it is a silver lining—a God thing—in the midst of some people’s tragedy. Wildlife displaced by high waters isn’t something to celebrate. But still, I saw life—resilient, beautiful life—moving through the wreckage. And in that, I found a strange sort of comfort. Maybe even a little joy.

So maybe the simpler, lighter gratitude entry is this:

Thank you, God, for foxes. Is there an animal quite as cool? I mean, if I could have one as a pet, that would be awesome. Their coloring is beautiful. That fluffy tail? Incredible. And the rarity of seeing one only adds to the mystique. That sly fox made me smile. (Of course, I’m also thinking about that silly song from years ago: “What Does the Fox Say?”)

Maybe that’s the silver lining. In the midst of devastation, when we pay attention, there are still small signs of beauty. Glimpses of life. Reasons to smile.

Still, a word of caution to myself—and maybe to anyone reading this: be gentle with your gratitude. Be mindful. Because while you may be finding silver linings, others are still deep in the valley. Gratitude isn’t about gloating. It’s about grace. And maybe sharing it quietly, humbly, can be a way to invite others toward hope—real hope.

Where or when have you found optimism and hope when those around you were stuck in the hardship of life?