Hope is a word, a concept, an ideal that I hang on to…. sometimes for dear life!
It is not concrete, and I cannot explain it to my grandchildren, at least not very well.
But thankfully they live in a world that has largely been unfiltered by pain and sorrow. They live trusting lives and their needs are met, most of the time!
Oh to have the simple faith and trust of a child!
We can lose that childlike faith and trust when we touched by grief and despair and pain. I see it in the people I meet regularly, in the news feed I receive (and my heart is heavy for those who grieve and suffer), and even in my own life. Hope has become a beacon to me, a guide on a sometimes weary journey.
It has coloured much of my writing and art… my first little book was called “A Journey of Hope”, I think it is aptly named.
“New Hope for Widows and Widowers“ is an organization dear to my heart, offering hope and support in the midst of the painful process of grief when a spouse dies. I remember struggling what to name our little organization, and it seemed apt to offer hope!
Hope is a beacon, which brings colour to my black and white world.
Hope is charged with energy, it gives strength to carry on.
Hope is a gift we give to one another, carrying one another’s burdens.
Hope is a promise, a promise from our Creator that spring will always come, the sun will rise, the flowers will bloom.
Hope is eternal, as we let go of earthly things, we have a future hope of reuniting with loved ones, of life without pain, of joy we cannot even imagine.
We can hang on to hope, and live lives of anticipation of good things to come!