May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.
Brothers and sisters, I want to take you out of the sanctuary and into the streets. I’m not talking about sanitized faith or padded pews—I’m talking about real life. The kind of life where despair is sold on corners and depression hides behind designer clothes. I’m talking about our cities, our schools, our homes—where people are dying with smiles on their faces and no hope in their hearts.
See, we live in a world that’s not just sick—it’s starving for hope. People are chasing peace in pills, purpose in paychecks, healing in hookups, and fulfillment in fame. They are searching, straining, striving—and still coming up empty.
Everywhere you look, there are dealers.
Dealers of distraction.
Dealers of deception.
Dealers of despair.
But what if I told you that God has His own kind of dealer?
That in a culture selling lies, God is raising up Hope Dealers?
Yes, I said it! Hope Dealers!
Not pushing substances, but proclaiming salvation.
Not selling highs that leave you low, but offering a Christ who lifts the lowly.
Not offering escape, but declaring eternal redemption.
We’re not marketing religion.
We’re not promoting self-help.
We’re heralding the gospel of grace—hope that is not wishful thinking, but blood-bought certainty.
Romans 15:13 is not just a benediction—it is a theological bombshell, a Spirit-breathed declaration of who God is and what He does. Paul, with ink soaked in the mercy of God, writes a blessing that becomes a battle cry—a defiant declaration in the face of despair:
Romans 15:13 ESV
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.
“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.”
This is not sentimental fluff. This is not vague encouragement.
This is gospel dynamite.
Paul gives us three things in this one verse that I believe the church needs to recover in our day:
The identity of our hope—who it is.
The inheritance of our hope—how we receive it.
And the immeasurability of our hope—how it overflows.
So if you’re tired, if you’re disillusioned, if you’re wondering whether any of this still matters, let me tell you what the streets already know: you will be a dealer of something.
You’ll either peddle cynicism or proclaim Christ.
You’ll either deal escape or declare eternal hope.
You’ll either repeat the world’s noise or speak heaven’s name.
God is looking for Hope Dealers.
Not the qualified, but the called.
Not the impressive, but the indwelt.
Not the polished, but the poured-out.
So let’s open our Bibles.
Let’s open our hearts.
And let’s hear from the God who doesn’t just give hope—He is hope.
The Identity of Our Hope: Hope Is Not a Feeling—It’s a Person
“May the God of hope…”
Hope is not something we manufacture—it’s Someone we meet.
Paul opens this verse not with a plea, but with a pronouncement. He doesn’t say, “May you find hope,” or “May life get easier.” He says, “May the God of hope…” Not just a giver of hope, but the very God who is hope personified.
Let’s not run past that too quickly.
The world offers a hundred versions of hope:
– Hope in self.
– Hope in science.
– Hope in politics.
– Hope in therapy.
– Hope in a new relationship or the next raise.
But every one of those hopes has an expiration date.
The bottle runs dry.
The party ends.
The diagnosis comes.
The lover leaves.
The body breaks.
And all of a sudden, the hope you had was nothing more than a helium balloon floating toward the sky.
But the God of hope—He does not expire.
He is not fragile.
He is not subject to circumstance.
He is not moved by markets, moods, or media.
He is the same yesterday, today, and forever
Theology has a word for this: aseity.
It means God is self-existent. He depends on nothing and no one.
You and I wake up every day needing oxygen, water, food, and Wi-Fi.
But God? He wakes up nothing, because He never sleeps. He lacks nothing, because He is everything.
He is hope—not because He found it, but because He is it.
This is why the Christian’s hope doesn’t crack under pressure. It doesn’t bend with the culture. It doesn’t sway with the news. Our hope has a name. And His name is Jesus.
Jesus is the God of hope.
He is the same Jesus who touched lepers, calmed storms, and wept at tombs.
He is the same Jesus who was betrayed by a friend, beaten by soldiers, and buried by fear.
And yet—He got up with all power in His hands.
Let me say it like this:
Our hope is not a motivational speech.
Our hope is not a religious system.
Our hope is not a fleeting emotion.
Our hope is Jesus Christ—crucified, risen, and reigning.
Some of you came in here thinking God was going to toss you out because you’re wobbling.
But the God of hope doesn’t throw away the broken—He restores them from the inside out.
He doesn’t discard cracked vessels. He fills them with grace that leaks hope into every space they touch.
Theological Anchor:
God is not hopeful—He is hope itself. Our hope, then, is not based on our strength to hold on to Him but on His faithfulness to hold on to us.
This is why Paul doesn’t begin this verse with you or me. He begins with God.
Because unless God is the foundation, hope is just foam on the surface of shifting sand.
The
of Our Hope: Hope Is Cultivated in the Soul Through Faith
“…fill you with all joy and peace in believing…”
If point one shows us who our hope is, point two shows us how that hope is received.
Paul prays that the God of hope would fill you—not partially, not weekly, not seasonally—but completely. And what does He fill you with? Joy and peace.
Oh, but don’t miss how He fills you. Not in your working. Not in your striving. Not in your performing. But in believing.
Faith, not effort.
Trust, not talent.
Receiving, not achieving.
You don’t earn this joy. You don’t perform your way into this peace.
This is not a reward for the strong. It is a gift for the trusting.
We call this sola fide—faith alone. It means that everything you need to stand right before God comes not through your hands, but through your heart—through faith in Christ alone. And that faith is not a product of human will. It’s a gift from God (Eph. 2:8). Given by grace. Received by faith.
Let’s be honest. The world sells cheap imitations of joy and peace.
It tells you joy is found in success.
It tells you peace is found in self-care.
It tells you happiness is found in relationships or revenge or recreation.
But joy without Jesus is like a river with no source—it dries up in the drought.
And peace apart from Christ is like a lamp with no oil—it flickers and fades.
But when the Spirit fills your soul through faith in Christ, the joy you receive is not circumstantial—it’s covenantal.
It doesn’t rise and fall with your bank account. It doesn’t vanish when people disappoint you. It doesn’t collapse when trials come. Because it was never rooted in you—it was rooted in Him.
There’s a flower called the moonflower—it only blooms at night.
While the rest of the world shuts down in darkness, the moonflower opens up in it.
That’s how joy and peace work for the believer.
The world says, “Rejoice when the sun shines.”
But faith says, “Even in the dark, I will bloom.”
Because the believer knows what Paul knew—that our joy is not in the absence of pain but in the presence of Christ.
And our peace is not the product of ease but the fruit of faith.
This is joy the world didn’t give,
and the world can’t take away.
This is peace that doesn’t bow to chaos,
because it stands on the Rock that is Christ.
This is faith that doesn’t flinch in the fire,
because it sees a fourth man walking in the furnace!
Oh yes—in believing!
Theological Foundation:
Faith is not passive—it’s receptive.
Faith is not a vague hope—it is a Spirit-empowered grasping of Christ and all His promises.
It is in believing that the soul becomes a sanctuary. It is in believing that your heart becomes a vessel—and God fills that vessel with joy and peace, not from this world, but from the Spirit who indwells you.
Have you been trying to achieve what can only be received?
Are you trying to fix your life before you believe—or will you believe so Christ can transform your life?
Don’t wait until you feel strong.
Don’t wait until you understand everything.
Don’t wait until your past is cleaned up.
Faith is the open hand that receives the gift of grace.
And when you open that hand—when you say, “Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief”—He doesn’t give you a little joy and a sprinkle of peace. No! He fills you to the brim.
He fills you until your soul sings.
Because joy and peace are not the result of your performance.
They are the inheritance of your faith.
The
of Our Hope: Hope Is Empowered by the Spirit to Overflow
“…so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.”
We’ve seen who our hope is—the God of hope.
We’ve seen how we receive that hope—in believing.
But now Paul closes this verse with a crescendo, a doxology wrapped in power:
“By the power of the Holy Spirit, you may abound in hope.”
Not trickle. Not drip. Not rationed out like rain in a drought.
Abound. Overflow. Flood.
This isn’t hope in a teacup.
This is hope in a hurricane.
This isn’t a hope you hold onto.
This is a hope that holds you—and then spills out of you.
The Greek word for abound is perisseuō—it means to overflow, to exceed what is expected, to go beyond the measure. God doesn’t deal in teaspoons. He deals in rivers.
And He doesn’t just want to give you a little hope to get you through the day—He wants to make you a conduit of hope, a dealer of hope, a living testimony that when the Spirit fills a soul, hope breaks through every crack.
But notice the key.
How do you abound in hope?
Not by willpower.
Not by self-help.
Not by motivational slogans.
But by the power of the Holy Spirit.
The work of salvation and sanctification is God’s from beginning to end. The same Spirit who regenerates you (John 3:5–8), who seals you (Ephesians 1:13), who intercedes for you (Romans 8:26)—is the very One who fills you with supernatural hope.
Illustration: The Tea Bag in the Hot Water
Hope doesn’t shine brightest in the absence of trouble—it shines in the midst of it.
A tea bag doesn’t release its strength in cold water. But when the water gets hot, that tea bag starts to color the whole cup. Likewise, hope soaked in the Spirit will start flavoring your life in the boiling waters of hardship. When the heat is on, when the pressure is high, when everything around you is shaking—Spirit-born hope shows up and spills out. This is not emotionalism. This is eternal power from the living God.
The Spirit-Filled Life Leaks Hope
You can’t fill a pitcher with something and expect it not to pour.
If the Spirit is truly working in you, hope will come out of you:
You’ll speak differently in suffering.
You’ll forgive when it doesn’t make sense.
You’ll stand when others collapse.
You’ll pray when others panic.
You’ll comfort others with the same comfort you received.
2 Corinthians 1:4 ESV
who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.
You’ll walk into hospitals and leak hope.
You’ll step into funeral homes and carry resurrection power.
You’ll show up at your job, your school, your neighborhood—and without even saying much, people will see hope dripping off your life like dew on the grass in the morning.
This is not hype hope.
This is not shallow hope.
This is not weekend hope.
This is Spirit-wrought, blood-bought, cross-centered, tomb-empty, throne-secured hope!
Hope that breathes when death threatens.
Hope that sings in the silence of waiting rooms.
Hope that dances in the darkness of depression.
Hope that holds fast when the storm is at its loudest.
This is what the Holy Spirit does!
He takes that gospel joy and gospel peace—and presses it down, shakes it together, and causes it to run over!
Questions for the Soul:
Are you barely surviving in your faith—or abounding in hope?
When people encounter you, do they leave more fearful—or more filled?
Have you been asking the Spirit not just to fill you, but to overflow from you?
A Closing Charge:
If your soul feels dry today, remember:
Hope doesn’t rise because your life is easy.
Hope rises because the Spirit is present.
Ask Him. Trust Him. Yield to Him.
He is the power source of your hope.
And when He takes over, you don’t just get by—you abound.
Conclusion: Hope Hung on a Cross
Oh, beloved—this hope we preach is not manufactured in motivational speeches or cultivated in the soil of sentimentality. This is blood-washed hope. This is nail-scarred hope. This is tomb-empty hope. This is Calvary-tested, resurrection-certified, and Spirit-empowered hope.
Hope doesn’t come to us wrapped in comfort.
It comes to us hanging on a cross.
There, on Golgotha’s hill, hope was stripped naked. Hope was spat upon. Hope was pierced and crucified.
The Prince of Peace was nailed between two thieves.
The Light of the World was shrouded in midday darkness.
And the Word made flesh was silenced beneath the weight of wrath.
But on the third day… hope got up.
Hope rolled away the stone.
Hope folded up grave clothes.
Hope walked out of death’s domain and declared, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to Me!”
You want to know what real hope looks like?
It looks like a borrowed tomb that couldn’t hold its tenant.
It looks like a Savior with scars who still says, “Peace be with you.”
It looks like Jesus, high and lifted up, saying to the sinner, “Come to Me, all who are weary.”
This is not a hope that evaporates under pressure.
This is not a hope that hides in hard times.
This is not a hope that collapses under the chaos of the world.
This is a living hope, a reigning hope, a returning hope.
Call to Action: Hope Must Be Dealt, Not Just Declared
You don’t get to walk away from this kind of hope and stay the same.
This is transforming hope.
This is commissioning hope.
Jesus didn’t raise you from the dead to sit you on a shelf.
He raised you to send you.
He filled you to pour you out.
To the Saints:
My brothers and sisters, the time for passive faith is over.
The world is overdosing on despair, and it doesn’t need more religious noise—it needs Hope Dealers.
So rise up and deal hope:
In your marriage—where bitterness festers, deal forgiveness.
In your friendships—where gossip divides, deal grace.
In your community—where trauma lingers, deal truth.
In your church—where apathy has settled, deal fire.
In your city—where sin is sold on every corner, deal salvation.
Carry gospel hope like holy contraband into the darkest corners of the culture.
Smuggle grace into hospital rooms.
Slide joy across the counter at your job.
Write peace in your text messages.
Speak life in your family.
Be a hope dealer in a hope-starved world.
To the Sinner:
You’ve been buying fake hope from broken vendors.
You’ve been drinking poison labeled freedom.
You’ve been looking for peace in performance, pleasure, and popularity—and you’re still empty.
But hear me: Real hope is not for sale—it’s already been paid for.
Jesus died so you wouldn’t have to carry your shame.
Jesus rose so you could walk in newness of life.
Jesus lives to offer you a better story—one that starts at the cross and ends in glory.
You don’t have to climb your way to God.
You don’t have to fix yourself before you come.
Just come.
Come with your doubt.
Come with your mess.
Come with your addiction, your anxiety, your anger.
Come, not to a system, but to a Savior.
Come to Jesus.
Closing Invitation:
So I ask you—will you receive this hope?
Not a feeling. Not a phase. Not a fleeting experience.
But a Person. A Savior. A King. The God of Hope.
Romans 15:13 ESV
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.
Let that be more than a benediction over your life—let it be a beginning.
Benediction
Now unto Him who is able—to turn graves into gardens,
To turn sorrow into songs,
To turn despair into declaration,
To fill your cup until it overflows,
And make you a hope dealer in a hopeless world—
To Him be glory, majesty, dominion, and power
Now and forevermore!
Amen. Amen. And amen!