Keep Hope Alive

Memorial Day began as a day of remembrance and reconciliation after the Civil War, and today I stand with my fellow Americans honoring the memory of those who have served us and enabled our freedom. A special bow of my head in memory of Uncle Tom, who lost his life at war, and to my sister, brother-in-law and nephew who continue to proudly serve today.

Over time, Memorial Day has become a day to visit graves of deceased relatives and hold others in remembrance. This year, in my small community in Iowa, we are holding in our thoughts three teens lost to suicide over the past six months.

Today I want to share with you a message that I wrote with my community in mind about how we must be vigilant during times of loss to keep hope alive.

Hope is fragile. And the death of hope is the greatest tragedy known to mankind.

In the face of loss, our challenge is to persevere through the darkest days, direct our focus to what we can learn from the experience, tap our courage to dream of a better day, and unleash our creativity to design what this looks like.

Although it may feel that there are no answers, there is a way to come through stronger and wiser and more unified. We must believe that not only can our loss stand for something, but that it must. Finding, creating, and crafting this path can only be accomplished with the support of others.

You may need to forge your path forward without knowing the answers you seek. This is tough for us humans. We like to be in control. We tend to ask “why?” and are constantly assigning reasons for things, called attributions. These make us feel secure. They give us a sense that we can prevent this bad thing from happening again. This drive is even stronger in parents and educators and community leaders who see it as their responsibility to solve problems and keep kids safe.

The reality is that we cannot explain the inexplicable. Nick __, who spoke at a recent community meeting, told how he lost his mom to suicide, which he describes as an individual terrorist act. The only one with the answers is gone. Nick’s mom left five suicide notes. Four were torn up and thrown away. He spent nearly two days piecing them together, held in place by small pieces of tape. With four and one-half notes before him, he had no more answers than when he started.

So where do we begin this daunting task of defining a new normal that allows for the inconceivable and inexplicable?

This is a time for vulnerability and unity and patience.

Fear is a part of our complex grief process. This is normal. What doesn’t feel normal is to sit with or express our fear. We want to squash it. We want to do anything to quell the anxiety we feel.

If we are not extremely aware of how we’re being triggered to do something – anything — to feel better, we often make poor choices to bring relief in the short term.

We may become inquisitors, focusing on what we or others knew or didn’t know; what we did or didn’t do. We then point fingers and judge the answers as not enough. We may pretend that we have all the answers. We may spread rumors, passing on information when we have no idea whether what we’re saying is the truth.

We make these choices in an attempt to relieve our inner turmoil. They pacify the need we feel to have a nice, neat life. They allow our ego to believe, for the moment, that the bad stuff happens “out there” while our homes and our schools and our communities and our lives are as orderly and picturesque as a beautiful main street of an Americana small town.

When we go for the quick fix, we tear others and our community down along the way.

The reality is that life is messy. Being a teenager is messy. Being a parent is messy. Bringing together a diverse group of people with varying backgrounds and faiths and political beliefs is messy. And it becomes even messier in the aftermath of a crisis.

The good news is that our lives can be precious in their imperfection and our communities beautiful in their differences. What makes this possible in basking in the hope for a brighter tomorrow and delighting in the kaleidoscope we create together.

We are in desperate need of leaders and role models. We need people to summon their courage and walk out their vulnerability. Say what is on your mind and in your heart and give your kids permission to do the same. Give the benefit of the doubt to your neighbors and school administrators and elected officials as they speak openly. When we speak our truth and listen to others’ truth with respect, we begin to heal.

This is a time for acknowledging our pain and confusion. A time for listening. A time for connecting. A time for asking for help. A time for supporting. A time for allowing that we have more questions than answers. A time for respecting the time and space needed to process and heal.

This is not a time to point fingers or judge or spread rumors. These behaviors kill hope. Be clear about what you know and what you don’t know. Be very careful about the information you pass on to others.

Sitting in the aftermath of these tragedies, I revisited my manuscript for Walking with Justice. I had already written how my mentor passionately kept hope alive for those he led, whether in the aftermath of a devastating flood or the loss of life.

I found myself writing… “Judge understood as a leader that the gravest danger in a crisis is the death of hope. His leadership refocused attention from darkness to light. See the light emanating from within – that is the light of potential. See the light in the distance – that is the light of possibility. See the light directly before you that will illuminate the way as you take a first step, and then another. This is the light of hope.”

It is often said that knowledge is power. Information is an important tool to grow ourselves and help heal and strengthen our community. But let us remember that our greatest source of power is our connection with and care for each other.

This is where our strength lies. This is where hope lives.

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Leave A Reply (13 comments So Far)

  • Mollie, thank you for this post.  May I be ever mindful and willing to share my own vulnerability with others when they are in crisis without judgement and/or allowing my own perspective to overshadow the reality of any given situation.  Thank you again.  

    • Sharing from a place of vulnerability without judgement is a powerful equation…one I’m continuing to learn and practice… It’s a big order and helps when we have each other’s back in walking it out. Thanks, Amy.

  • Mollie, What a beautifully written and inspiring call to action. My heart goes out to the members of your community who have their lost loved ones and friends and my thoughts are with them during this time of intense grief. You make it abundantly clear that events such as these are the concern of everyone in the community, not somehow the fault of those directly affected, that hope lies in the coming together and the cooperative efforts, and that the journey from darkness to light requires people to set aside their differences, overcome their fears, and embrace their vulnerability to lead the way.

    • Tom – You have such a beautiful way of mirroring back what others speak from their hearts. As I read your comments … I learn and see things in a new and more expansive way. It’s your gift. Thank you for sharing it with us.

  • Mollie,
    A few years ago I was part of Ken McArthur’s Impact Action Team and we chose teen suicide prevention as our cause to champion. At the event where we announced this decision and then got to work on it, it was astounding how many people in a room of about 75 had been touched in their lives in some way by a teen suicide, attempt, or serious thoughts about it. There was almost no one in the room who did not have a story to tell.

    You’re so right — life is messy. And problems will always arise in some shape or form. Dealing with them in a space of hope and openness is what will help us all get through.

    I pray for you, your family & your community that you all can move forward in healing and that you find a way to spread hope to the troubled children & families in your town. 

    We are in desperate need of REAL role models. I’m so happy you stepped up to take the lead in providing some solutions. You, my friend, are a wonderful role model for so many, including me. You continue to inspire me daily.

    Big hugs to you,

    • Felicia – love how you said “and then got to work on it” = you difference makers!

      What came of this? Were these stories captured? I can ask Ken if you don’t know.

      Part of my vision is to work with my network of authors, coaches, mentors, and thought leaders to create an ebook for teens in our community – and in other communities – who are struggling with suicide or losses that have turned their world upside down. Putting real faces and personal stories to the resiliency factors that will encourage these kids to reach out for help and inspire them to keep hope alive and take that next small step, and then next one. Similar to what the Domino Team just did with our No Idling ebook. Ping me with any info / ideas you have on this – thanks.

      Thanks for your prayers & hugs – feeling and appreciating them 🙂

  • Michelle

    Great article Mollie, so beautifully stated!  I can’t wait to learn more in your upcoming book.  Thank you for sharing so openly.

    • Thanks, Michelle. Experiencing the new challenges, joys, opportunities, and connections while writing Walking with Justice has taken “irony” out of my vocabulary. There are no coincidences. Every time my mind triggers a thought of “wow, that’s ironic”… I step back and ask for wisdom to see the bigger picture. In the book, I write about destiny vs free will – and am learning more about the dynamics of this intricate and wonderous dance each day. If interested, you can follow along with my book at

  • Mollie, 
    Of all the things I’ve read from you before and after the Make an Impact session in Chicago, this is by far the one that connected me directly to your heart. Your other essays are always full of good advice and insightful, yet your ability to articulate a call to action for others that is grounded in compassion and acceptance is stunningly beautiful. My heart aches for the tragedy that inspired such emotion on your part.  May your words reach those who are most in need of them.  

    • Yes, my heart needed to speak these words – that the only way to support our kids is to join together. Thanks for letting me know that this message landed so clearly for you – and joining in your prayer that it reaches the hearts who need it most.

  • Mollie, 
    This speaks powerfully to a question I have just answered on how poetry combines thought and feelings. The poems, spanning four centuries, all express hope, as below:

    Nicholas Mazza          Hope             

    is the belief
    that one hand
    reaching to another
    can eventually
    touch the moon,
    allowing the light
    to guide us
    through the night.

    Mazza, Nicholas, Journal of Humanistic Education and Development, 36, 257, 1998.

    I love your statement: ‘We must believe that not only can our loss stand for something, but that it must.’ Information and knowledge are only part of the spectrum from data to understanding.
    Thank you for this insight,

    • Oh, Katrina. In such a short stanza, this poem highlights the power of hope by pairing it with belief and light and reaching out to help and coming through the night together…lovely. Thank you.

  • Anonymous

    Mollie, I pray for the healing of your community. 

         You write: our greatest source of power is our connection with and care for each other. 

    What a simple requirement for lifting each other up, instead of a tearing down.