There is no new president in Lebanon to promise change that gives hope. More than that, we have a saying in our country that “Its protectors are its thieves”.

The regime we have here is more of a kleptocracy (the rule of those who use their power to steal the resources of their country) than a democracy.

Moreover, for the few past years we have been without a leader who might offer a vision of hope or improvement. Instead, we face a war beyond our control.

I am reminded of this because around the world, particularly after elections, many people often find hope in new governments, believing they might bring positive change.

After all, leaders campaign on promises, fueling this hope. But here in Lebanon, we haven’t had a change in leadership for a long time. In fact, we don’t even have a hope for a president who can offer promises or inspiration.

What we do have is war, a conflict that has lasted over a year and escalated dramatically in recent weeks. It disrupts our lives and brings pain and loss to many.

As I write this, I am distracted by the sounds of air raids and rockets in the suburbs of Beirut. I find myself repeatedly checking on family members to ensure their safety because our home (which we now occasionally visit) is near targeted areas.

Yet our experience is minor compared to those who are suffering: who lost loved ones or lost their homes in seconds, or who have had to flee their villages or towns with no certainty of return.

With no national leadership to provide hope, where do I find mine? Being part of the Arab Baptist Theological Seminary (ABTS) has taught me to step back and look at the bigger picture.

There are, in fact, places where hope is found, even here in Lebanon. I will look at two main sources.

Being part of a community of believers

At ABTS, I am privileged to be in a community that centers itself on God. Our daily chapel offers a space for worship and reflection, which has become even more essential since the recent escalations in the war.

Our daily ABTS chapel service has transformed from a place that focuses on building up our staff, into a community chapel where everyone visiting, living, or working on campus is welcome.

For 15 minutes, we focus on praising and worshiping our Lord, and for another 15, we hear words of encouragement—messages on salvation, practical guidance for difficult times, or reminders of our mission in this part of the world.

As we heard in a recent sermon during chapel, Paul tells us in Ephesians to redeem the time because the days are evil.

We are reminded that we are called to live out and share the gospel, even amid an evil world where war surrounds us, until Christ returns.

These gatherings take place in addition to our weekly student chapel meetings. As we at ABTS continue to train and equip students (remotely) who come from even more difficult regions, we are also reminded by our students from Sudan, Yemen, and other places, that God is still on the throne and working in the darkest of places.

But chapel is merely optional. One can be a staff member or a guest finding shelter on our campus and miss being part of this wonderful community.

During our chapel time, some prefer to sit or walk outside for “fresh air”, missing the “living water” that is offered inside. Hope, after all, cannot be forced upon someone.

Many times, I, myself, miss opportunities to receive encouragement or hope. We probably all do. But it is important that we make sure to be part of a community that continually shares the gospel and fosters fellowship.

Now more than before, I might understand Elijah fearing for his life and complaining to God that he was left by himself (1 Kings 19:10,18). But in our age, a community that helps point us to hope is not hard to find: It is a local community of believers.

Spending time with the word of God

The second source of hope is even more obvious: the word of God. This year, I’ve been reading the Bible chronologically, and lately, I’ve reached the part describing Christ’s journey to the cross.

In the midst of war, it is humbling to be reminded that the Creator of the universe is personally interested in each of us, and that His love for us is beyond our understanding.

Christ knew the cross awaited Him and yet willingly went to it. In between the horrific sounds of bombings in Beirut, my readings have reminded me that, “Having loved His own who were in the world, He loved them to the end” (John 13:1).

Furthermore, as I struggle to pray for my enemies and sometimes forget to pray for my friends, I am reminded that Jesus prayed for me, for us, and even now, He intercedes for us at God’s right hand:

“My prayer is not for them alone. I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message, that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me. I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one— I in them and you in me—so that they may be brought to complete unity. Then the world will know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.” (John 17:20-23)

How can I not have hope when I am reminded of some of God’s thoughts toward me and His church?

However, similarly to chapel, the Bible may be accessible to most people worldwide, but too often we overlook it, forgetting that it is our daily bread. Even in war, God’s word remains our ultimate source of hope.

While I will continue to pray for better leadership for my country, and for my region, I will not put my hopes in the coming (no one knows when) elections but in the knowledge that God is at work and that His desire is for all people (including the fighting groups) to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the Truth.

Loulwa El Maalouf, Director of Partnerships at the Arab Baptist Theological Seminary in Lebanon.

This article was first published on the blog of the ABTS and was re-published with permission.