When you say a situation or a person is hopeless, you are

The words of Charles L. Allen — “When you say a situation or a person is hopeless, you are slamming the door in the face of God.” — resound like a trumpet of faith across the valleys of despair. In them lies a truth both humbling and eternal: that hope is not a sentiment of the heart, but a sacred act of trust in the unseen power of the Divine. Allen, a preacher of gentle wisdom, reminds us that to declare anything hopeless is to deny the very essence of God — the essence that creates light from darkness, life from dust, and redemption from ruin. His words call us to a higher vision, to believe not in what we see, but in what the Eternal can make of what we see.

In the ancient world, the wise understood that despair was not merely a human emotion, but a spiritual blindness. To lose hope was to forget that the universe itself is sustained by renewal. Just as winter gives way to spring and night to dawn, so too can despair give way to transformation. To call a situation hopeless is to declare that the cycle of renewal has ended — that the Divine hand no longer moves. And this, Allen says, is the greatest insult to Heaven: to slam the door in the face of God, shutting out the possibility that grace might still act, that healing might still come.

Consider the story of Nelson Mandela, who spent twenty-seven years in prison, often in isolation, often told that his struggle was meaningless. By every worldly measure, his cause was hopeless. Yet Mandela refused to close that door. His faith in justice, in the dignity of humanity, and in the transforming power of forgiveness endured through the darkest of years. When freedom finally came, it came not as vengeance, but as reconciliation — a miracle wrought by hope that would not die. His life stands as living proof of Allen’s wisdom: that even in chains, hope opens doors that despair cannot even see.

Allen’s words also speak to the spiritual arrogance hidden in hopelessness. When we declare a person or situation beyond saving, we act as if we, mere mortals, understand the limits of divine mercy. But the Creator delights in overturning the judgments of men — raising saints from sinners, wisdom from folly, beauty from ashes. The prodigal son, returning home in shame, could have been deemed hopeless by those who watched him squander his life. Yet his father saw what no one else did — the spark still alive beneath the ruin. In that moment of embrace, heaven itself rejoiced, for God’s power begins where human hope ends.

There is also tenderness in Allen’s teaching. He does not command us never to grieve, never to doubt. Rather, he reminds us that even in sorrow, we must leave the door open — even a crack — for grace to enter. The human mind is quick to conclude, “It is over.” The heart of faith whispers, “Not yet.” For as long as there is breath, as long as there is love, the story is unfinished. Hope is not the denial of pain, but the refusal to imprison the future within the limits of the present.

We see this spirit in the story of Abraham and Sarah, who, in their old age, believed that the promise of life was beyond them. Their time had passed, the door seemed closed. Yet the angel of the Lord declared that nothing is impossible for God — and laughter, the laughter of new life, filled their home. This is the pattern of divine intervention throughout history: when humanity declares “hopeless,” God writes “beginning.” The tomb becomes the birthplace, the exile becomes the calling, the wound becomes the way.

Thus, the lesson of Allen’s words is clear and timeless: never close the door of hope, no matter how dark the corridor ahead may seem. When you are tempted to pronounce a person or a circumstance hopeless, remember that you speak not only against them, but against the infinite possibilities of divine grace. Keep the door open — through prayer, through compassion, through simple perseverance. For the moment you hold the door ajar, light can enter. And in that light, miracles are born.

So, my child, when despair whispers that all is lost, remember this truth: hope is the breath of God within you. Do not silence it. Do not shut it out. Even when reason fails and evidence disappears, let your soul say, “Still, I will hope.” For every time you choose hope over despair, you keep the divine door open — and through that door, love, redemption, and new beginnings forever flow.