Article written by Sr. Mariola López Villanueva, RSCJ, published in the UISG Bulletin 187/2025

“The Lord desires to open a path in our hearts  
through which He can enter our lives and make His journey.”

In this Jubilee year, much is being written and discussed about hope. How can we continue to speak of hope in a world that seems to be becoming increasingly inhospitable, where millions of human beings suffer violence, endure hunger, are forced to abandon their land, see their most basic rights ignored, and are devastated by indifference? We are living through a century deeply wounded by wars, polarities, the demonization of the other who is different from me, and yet, this time is paradoxically, blessed and full of potential because it is the time in which God is coming.

As women called by Jesus, it is precisely in the fractures of our world that we most need to embody the cause of hope. A hope that is situated in the heart, in the place of our deepest desires, in contact with who we are and what we live. Connecting with the hope that transforms requires going to the depths, and from there, it speaks of us and all that we do not dare to say out loud but that beats within us.

What words can we bring to this international community of women leaders? Women who wish to encourage and inspire, to breathe hope into other women and companions in mission? What I can share with you does not come from vast knowledge but from what I have sensed and savored over the years in my encounters with women religious from various congregations and different generations, some of whom have become for me true sisters and companions on my journey.

I have followed the responses on the UISG website about what it means for hope to transform and how hope can transform the daily lives of the sisters. Sister Ann Carbon wrote that “Hope is holding onto something…” and I was thrilled to discover that in Hebrew, the two words for hope (miqwah and tipwah) come from the word for rope (qaw), which as a verb also means to wait. Hope is a rope that Someone extends to us, and to which we cling.