3 Ways to grow in the virtue of hope during tough times

The world is marked by uncertainty, discouragement, and rapid change. Hope oftentimes feels elusive. Yet within the Christian tradition, hope is not some fleeting sense of optimism — it is a theological virtue, deeply rooted in faith and oriented toward the ultimate good. Far from being passive, hope actively shapes how we live, make decisions, and face adversity. But what exactly is hope, and how can we cultivate it as a lasting part of our lives?

The Catechism of the Catholic Church defines hope as “the theological virtue by which we desire the kingdom of heaven and eternal life as our happiness, placing our trust in Christ’s promises and relying not on our own strength but on the help of the grace of the Holy Spirit” (CCC 1817). This definition highlights two key aspects: desire and trust. Hope is not merely wishing for a better future; it is a confident expectation rooted in God’s faithfulness.

St. Thomas Aquinas, in his Summa Theologica, describes hope as a virtue that “inclines the will to attain a future good that is difficult but possible to obtain.” Unlike natural hope, which depends on human effort or favorable circumstances, theological hope is anchored in God’s grace. It reaches beyond what we can achieve on our own, sustaining us even when everything else seems fragile.

As a virtue, hope is also a habit — not in the casual sense of a routine, but as a stable disposition that shapes our character over time. Virtues grow through practice, intention, and, importantly, the cooperation with grace. Just as muscles strengthen through consistent exercise, hope deepens through deliberate acts that orient our hearts toward God’s promises.

Here are three time-tested ways to cultivate the virtue of hope, grounded in Scripture and Catholic tradition.

The Book of Psalms is often called the prayer book of the Bible, filled with raw expressions of joy, fear, gratitude, and lament. What makes the Psalms especially powerful for nurturing hope is their honesty — they don’t shy away from despair, but they always return to trust in God.

Consider Psalm 42:5:

Praying the Psalms regularly helps internalize this rhythm: acknowledging pain or uncertainty, yet choosing to anchor one’s heart in God’s steadfastness. Whether chanted in the Liturgy of the Hours, recited quietly, or meditated upon, the Psalms give us words to hold onto when our own fail. They teach us that hope is not the absence of struggle but the decision to trust God in the midst of it.

St. Thérèse of Lisieux, a 19th-century Carmelite nun, is known for her “Little Way” — a spiritual path rooted in doing small things with great love and trust in God. For Thérèse, hope wasn’t about heroic deeds but about childlike confidence in God’s mercy, even in weakness. She wrote, “I can, therefore, despite my littleness, aspire to holiness… I hope as much from God’s justice as from His mercy.”

Cultivating hope through the Little Way means embracing daily acts of kindness, patience, and sacrifice, however small, and offering them to God. It’s about believing that no effort is wasted when done in love. This practice reorients the heart from self-reliance to reliance on grace, fostering a quiet but resilient hope that grows with each small act of faithfulness.

The Beatitudes (Matthew 5:3-12) are often seen as a list of paradoxes: “Blessed are the poor in spirit,” “Blessed are those who mourn,” “Blessed are the meek.” On the surface, they seem to bless conditions the world often views as unfortunate. But the Beatitudes reveal the logic of Christian hope — that true fulfillment is not found in power, wealth, or immediate comfort.

Meditating on the Beatitudes shifts our perspective from temporary struggles to eternal promises. They remind us that hope is not naive optimism but a radical trust that God’s justice and mercy will prevail, even when hidden from view. For example, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied” assures us that our deepest desires for justice and peace are not in vain.

Try reflecting on one Beatitude each day, asking: How does this promise shape my choices, my attitude, and my sense of purpose? This practice gradually forms the heart to hope not in fleeting success but in lasting truth.

Hope is not a quick fix for difficult times; it is the virtue that sustains us on the journey, especially when the road is long and the destination feels distant. As St. Paul writes, “We hope for what we do not see; we wait for it with patience” (Romans 8:25).

By praying the Psalms, living out the Little Way, or meditating on the Beatitudes, we participate in the slow, grace-filled work of forming a hopeful heart. This isn’t about denying life’s hardships but about facing them with the quiet strength that comes from knowing that, in the end, God’s promises are trustworthy — and that is enough.