I have had an unhealthy relationship with the word “hope” lately.
It has always been one of my favorites,
but recently I used it in the context of an apology.
I feared that I was strangling someone with hope.
I know that to keep trying is, for me, an expression of hope.
I continue to long for wonderful things; I can’t help it.
But today we got a jump start on Advent–
which is definitely a season I am anxious to experience.
We had our first ministerial luncheon and we lit the first Advent candle.
The devotion and message managed to pierce my heart despite
the layers of muscle overdeveloped by fear and pain.
“The world belongs to those who will have brought the greatest hope.” — Theilhard de Chardin
In Advent, Christians honor what it means to anticipate the incarnation.
In so many year since Jesus the man lived,
we are called to be Christ in the world.
That takes nothing less than endless hope.
I feel called to everything I do, every person I meet.
There is no such thing as wasted time.
On days when I am tempted to focus on what is missing,
I believe I can still be filled by what already exists.
And yet, I will always hope.
And fight the shame placed on what many perceive as blind idealism.
But in the soul’s winter, it often feels that we will stay barren.