Years ago, a young man in my youth group seemed burdened and upset. During our prayer time, he started praying for hope, crying out to God to give him hope. Feeling sorry for him, I took him aside and told him if he knew Jesus, he had hope. He stared back at me, puzzled. Then it dawned on him: I hadn’t understood his prayer. He explained to me that Hope was a beautiful young lady in his third-hour English class.