For me, faith is believing in what we cannot see, and hope is trusting that things will turn out well. That is not always easy right now. The world feels discouraging.
The news makes it hard to stay optimistic. As parents, it hits harder. We worry for our kids and the world they grow up in.
When you love your kids more than anything, that worry can be overwhelming. I have felt helpless at times, and I think we all have. But I refuse to stay there.
Because for me, that is where faith has to begin. It is easier said than done, especially when things feel uncertain, and we seem more divided than ever. Still, when I slow down, I remember a simple truth.
Most people want the same things: to feel loved, accepted, safe, and valued. When you look someone in the eye with that in mind, it’s easy to see the best parts of being human. For me, the biggest reminder of faith and hope does not come from the world.
It comes from a place close to home, our kids. Children are my greatest teachers. They remind me anything is possible if I remember what it felt like to be them.
Along the way, we learn to question everything and become more logical or cautious. But kids do not do that; they show faith and hope best. I see it in our martial arts classes, after-school program, and camps.
It’s in small moments that are easy to miss. I am easily in awe when a child lights up over something simple, and nothing else matters in that moment. When I witness their truth, that’s when it becomes clear.
Maybe the faith and hope we’ve lost and are trying to find has been right in front of us the whole time, especially in our children. It lives in the small moments we usually rush past: a conversation we don’t cut short, a hug we don’t rush, a time we choose to be present. When you slow down to see your children, you remember who you were before doubt or overthinking.
I said earlier that faith is believing in what we cannot see, and hope is trusting that things will turn out well. But maybe we can see it. We see it in our kids, in the way they believe, in the way they love, and in the way they trust the world, even when we struggle to do the same.
We do not need to search for faith and hope. Spend time where it is alive: sit longer with your children, listen closely, hold a hug a second more, step into their world and be amazed. In their laughter, imagination, and belief, you may find what you didn’t know you were missing: faith, hope, and a peace that everything is going to be alright.