The One True Hope
Hope. A word that we all have heard hundreds, if not thousands, of times. Defining hope would directly depend on one’s beliefs and worldview, or it can be defined by one’s circumstances. So, what is hope to me? Well, this definition has changed drastically over the years.
I grew up in the small town of Pearl River, located in southern Louisiana. I spent my childhood living, laughing, fishing, and playing sports. My childhood was full of hope. Hoping that the Saints and LSU would win on the weekends, hoping my grandpa and I would catch fish, and hoping that I would make an A on my spelling test. This hope would sometimes come to fruition, and sometimes it would not; but for the most part, my childhood hope was innocent.
My definition of hope would shift during my high school years and into my early twenties. The culture of south Louisiana is full of partying and alcohol. Becoming the high school quarterback my freshman year, I was invited to a party, and at 14 years old I became intoxicated for the first time. It felt so good! It gave me the courage to come out of my shell.
All of a sudden, I was not shy and could talk to people, which was the one thing missing from my life—the one thing I thought I needed in order to be the person I wanted to be! So of course, this led to more parties and more drinking. More parties led to smoking marijuana, which led to pills, and eventually led to a 14-year severe drug addiction.
The innocent hope I had as a child shifted; now I was hoping my parents would not find out what I was doing, and I was hoping I would not be drug tested at school. As my addiction grew worse, what I hoped for turned more cynical. Becoming an IV heroin and meth user, my hope would shift again. Would I have enough money to pay the bills? I hoped I would find the money to get my next fix. I would hope that I would not die today from my addiction.
Truth be told, the life of a drug addict is hopeless! Every relationship is lost, and everyone you care about begins looking at you with a face of disappointment. Addiction stole everything from me: a broken engagement, a divorce, a family not wanting me around. This left me alone and feeling lost, full of shame and guilt, and eventually homeless. My addiction became so bad that I began to hope that I would not wake up from my next overdose, and that my next use would be my last. I just wanted to be done with all the pain and disappointment.
It was not until I was 32 years old when I hit, what we call in recovery, my rock bottom. My rock bottom was not my five overdoses. It was not being shot on a drug deal gone wrong. It was not the look of disappointment from family. No, my turning point—that led me to the true hope I have today—came from a long stare in the mirror.
The person I saw staring back at me was a man I never want to see again. I saw a man that was full of hate, selfishness, jealousy, fear, and depression. I saw a man who was a liar, a thief, and a cheat. He was a bad son, a bad grandson, a bad brother, and a bad friend. I saw a man who was weak, who was a fool, and who was completely dead on the inside! “But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong” –1 Corinthians 1:27.
This version of Derek was the true definition of hopeless. I was hopeless because of what I believed hope to be. I had a worldly view and definition of hope. My hope was one of wishful thinking—a hope that was temporary and did not last.
This hope was based on emotion instead of the truth. A hope that, in the end, always left me disappointed or longing for more.
I came face to face with The One True Hope in a detox center in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. It was here, when I began to have the small glimmer of hope, that I would not be a drug addict for the rest of my life. Men who used to struggle with addiction would come in every night and talk about how their life and relationships have been restored, and the common denominator for every single one of them was God.
One man said something one night that changed everything. He said, “Hide your shoes under your bed before you go to sleep tonight, and when you wake up in the morning hit your knees to get them out from under the bed. And while you are down there, begin to pray. Talk to God as if He is your friend or father.”
So, for the first time in my life, I began my day on my knees, talking to the Creator of the universe. And for the first time in my life, a new hope entered my heart, one that I could not explain nor had ever felt. I was not sure exactly what was going on at that time, but looking back now I know I was face to face with the God of hope, Jesus Christ. This new hope was carved in my heart when I met a man by the name of Bryan Rucker. Bryan did something for me that I could never repay him for when he presented me with the Gospel! Without hesitation, I was baptized on June 6, 2019.
The One True Hope is not a mere desire for something good to happen. It is a confident expectation and desire for something good in the future. The One True Hope is found in that empty tomb! This hope is a heavenly mindset and one that is eternal. The One True Hope is not based on feelings and emotions, but on this truth: That no matter your circumstances, you will prevail.
This is the hope that—no matter what the world throws my way—I will be able to overcome it. This hope gets me through the storms and is my fourth man in the fire (Daniel 3:25). This hope guarantees my marriage will be able to endure attacks from the enemy. This hope placed me in West Monroe as part of a forever family who walks with me, hand in hand, in every situation.
The One True Hope is life-changing. The hope found in Jesus Christ resurrects lives, mends relationships, and turns our pain into His purpose. The One True Hope is the only reason I can stand today, free! I am free of drug addiction and free of shame and guilt. The One True Hope is the only reason I can be a godly husband to my beautiful wife Kayla and a godly example to my children.
Hope appears to have many definitions, but that is not the truth. The empty tomb and the resurrection of Jesus defines hope (1 Peter 1:3). So, ask yourself today: “What is my definition of hope?” Hope is a person, and his name is Jesus.
Derek McQueen serves as co-director of Celebrate Recovery at White’s Ferry Road Church. He also owns and operates Awakened recovery homes along with his CR co-director, Bryan Rucker. He is married to his wife, Kayla, and has two children: Cash and Scout.