Introduction
Are you letting disappointment make you cynical, or are you learning to hope in God when there seems to be no reason to hope? God trains His people to resist cynicism and grow resilient hope by anchoring us in His promises, often through long waiting, painful tests, and faithful provision. As families, we tell stories that shape our identity: where we came from, who we are, and what we believe about our future. Scripture does this on a far deeper level. When we open the Bible, especially when we look at Jesus’ ancestry, we’re not reading random names. God ordained a real family line filled with real stories, and those stories reveal who Jesus is and what He came to do. And because we have been brought into God’s family through Christ, these are not only His family stories; they become our family stories too. During Advent, we remember Jesus’ first coming and we look forward to His final coming, when He will set everything right. And as we begin, we look to Abraham, the perfect picture of hope, because, as Paul says, Abraham “contrary to hope, in hope believed” (Romans 4:18). When hope looked unreasonable, he still trusted God.
Main Points
Are you letting disappointment make you cynical, or are you learning to hope in God when there seems to be no reason to hope? God trains His people to resist cynicism and grow resilient hope by anchoring us in His promises, often through long waiting, painful tests, and faithful provision.
As families, we tell stories that shape our identity: where we came from, who we are, and what we believe about our future. Scripture does this on a far deeper level. When we open the Bible, especially when we look at Jesus’ ancestry, we’re not reading random names. God ordained a real family line filled with real stories, and those stories reveal who Jesus is and what He came to do. And because we have been brought into God’s family through Christ, these are not only His family stories; they become our family stories too.
During Advent, we remember Jesus’ first coming and we look forward to His final coming, when He will set everything right. And as we begin, we look to Abraham, the perfect picture of hope, because, as Paul says, Abraham “contrary to hope, in hope believed” (Romans 4:18). When hope looked unreasonable, he still trusted God.
Family Stories Shape Present Identity
You already know this from your own life: we tell stories at the table, we retell them, and we pass them down because they tell us who we are. In the same way, God gives us the stories of Abraham not merely as ancient history, but as spiritual ancestry.
In Advent, we’re asking a family question: How do God’s people handle the tension of a world where everything isn’t as it should be? Disappointment confronts all of us, disappointment in ourselves, in others, in the world, and sometimes even in what we expected God to do. And when disappointment hits, we tend to go one of two ways:
- Disappointment → despair (giving in, giving up)
- Disappointment → deeper hope (deeper joy, deeper confidence in God)
Abraham’s story teaches us how God shepherds us away from despair and into hope.
God’s Promise Meets Human Impossibility
In Genesis 12:1–3, God calls Abram to leave everything familiar and gives him a staggering promise: “I will make you a great nation… and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.” (Genesis 12:2–3)
But then we learn the critical background detail: Sarai was barren (Genesis 11:30). So Abraham is 75, Sarai has no child, and the promise sounds not only grand but impossible. Decades of longing and failure sit underneath that one sentence: “She had no child.”
This is where cynicism would feel “reasonable.” Abraham could interpret God’s promise as cruelty, exaggeration, or fantasy. But God is inviting him into something else: a life where hope rests not on circumstances, but on the character of the One who speaks.
Cynicism Feels Safe But Kills Hope
We live in an age trained in suspicion: “You can’t believe everything you hear online.” We’ve learned to doubt motives, question headlines, and now even distrust what we see with our own eyes. There is a kind of wisdom in discernment, but cynicism goes further.
Cynicism is a defense mechanism: it tries to protect us from vulnerability and disappointment by refusing to hope at all. Eugene Peterson captured it well: cynicism may begin with an awareness of evil, but it ends in a paralysis of hope.
So I want you to notice this: Abraham’s fight was not just with infertility or time, it was with the temptation to become the kind of person who cannot hope anymore.
The Trap of Pragmatic Self-Help
After more than a decade of waiting, Abraham and Sarai choose a “solution” that makes sense pragmatically. In Genesis 16 (implied in the narrative), Sarai urges Abraham to have a child through Hagar. And it “works”: Ishmael is born.
But God later makes it clear: He will bless Ishmael, but the covenant promise will not be counted through Ishmael, it will come through Sarah. Abraham’s pragmatic self-help was not God’s plan.
This is one of the ways cynicism expresses itself spiritually: “Maybe God won’t really come through, so I should take control.” And often we can justify it because it feels responsible. But it quietly trains us to trust our own management more than God’s word.
I’m urging you here: when God’s timing feels slow, don’t turn delay into permission to disobey. Waiting is not wasted when God is doing heart-work.
Laughing Off the Call of God
In Genesis 17, God renews His promise and even renames Abram to Abraham, “father of many nations”, while he still has no child through Sarah. God also renames Sarai to Sarah and promises: “I will bless her and also give you a son by her.” (Genesis 17:15–16)
And Abraham responds in a painfully human way: he falls on his face and laughs (Genesis 17:17). He cannot imagine it: a child to a 100-year-old man and a 90-year-old woman.
I want to press this gently but directly: many of us have laughed off God’s promises too, not always out loud, but in our hearts. Not because we hate Him, but because we fear the pain of hoping and being disappointed again. So we keep hope at arm’s length and call it “realism.”
But God is not offended by our weakness; He is committed to forming faith in us. And in Genesis 21:1–2, God does exactly what He said He would do: Sarah conceives, and Isaac is born “at the set time.”
God’s delays are not denials. God’s promises are not fantasies. He keeps His word.
Tested Faith Learns Resurrection Hope
Genesis 22 brings us into the second act: after Isaac is born, God does something shocking, He tests Abraham (Genesis 22:1). A test is not about information; it is meant to prove something, to make public what is true.
God says: “Take now your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love… and offer him there as a burnt offering…” (Genesis 22:2)
And Abraham obeys. He rises early. He goes. He brings Isaac. The narrative is meant to pull you into the tension: Will Abraham obey? Will he despair? Will he distrust?
Then Abraham says something that reveals what has changed in him: “The lad and I will go yonder and worship, and we will come back to you.” (Genesis 22:5)
Do you hear the hope? Either Abraham is planning to fake obedience, or Abraham has come to trust God so deeply that he believes: Even if I obey, God will still keep His promise. God promised descendants through Isaac, so if Isaac must die, God must still be able to raise him up or otherwise fulfill His word. That’s “contrary to hope, in hope believed” (Romans 4:18).
This is what God was forming over decades: not a man who never struggled, but a man whose final word was not cynicism, but worship and trust.
Conclusion
Abraham’s story teaches us how hope is formed: not instantly, not painlessly, but through God’s faithful promise, long waiting, and refining tests. Cynicism offers quick relief but ultimately paralyzes the soul. God offers something better: confidence in Him that can endure disappointment without surrendering hope.
So I’m calling you to a discipleship decision: when God’s timing confuses you, don’t retreat into cynicism, don’t seize control in pragmatic disobedience, and don’t laugh off His call as too good to be true. Instead, learn to worship while you wait, and trust that the God who promises is the God who provides.
And because Advent points us to Jesus, we remember this: the God of Abraham kept His promise through Abraham’s line, bringing Christ into the world to bless all nations. The same God is still writing our family story today.
Father in heaven, thank You for giving us the story of Abraham to train our hearts in hope. Forgive us for the ways we have become cynical to protect ourselves from disappointment. Forgive us for taking control when You call us to trust, and for laughing off what You have clearly spoken because we fear being let down.
Teach us to believe You “contrary to hope,” to worship while we wait, and to obey even when we do not understand. Strengthen our confidence that You always keep Your promises, and form in us a deeper joy and resilience through every trial. As we enter Advent, help us remember Jesus’ first coming and long for His return, when He will make all things right. In Jesus’ name, amen.
Conclusion
Abraham’s story teaches us how hope is formed: not instantly, not painlessly, but through God’s faithful promise, long waiting, and refining tests. Cynicism offers quick relief but ultimately paralyzes the soul. God offers something better: confidence in Him that can endure disappointment without surrendering hope.
So I’m calling you to a discipleship decision: when God’s timing confuses you, don’t retreat into cynicism, don’t seize control in pragmatic disobedience, and don’t laugh off His call as too good to be true. Instead, learn to worship while you wait, and trust that the God who promises is the God who provides.
And because Advent points us to Jesus, we remember this: the God of Abraham kept His promise through Abraham’s line, bringing Christ into the world to bless all nations. The same God is still writing our family story today.
Closing Prayer
Father in heaven, thank You for giving us the story of Abraham to train our hearts in hope. Forgive us for the ways we have become cynical to protect ourselves from disappointment. Forgive us for taking control when You call us to trust, and for laughing off what You have clearly spoken because we fear being let down.
Teach us to believe You “contrary to hope,” to worship while we wait, and to obey even when we do not understand. Strengthen our confidence that You always keep Your promises, and form in us a deeper joy and resilience through every trial. As we enter Advent, help us remember Jesus’ first coming and long for His return, when He will make all things right. In Jesus’ name, amen.