December 8-- HOPE

When the thing we dream for is denied us, we can abandon hope, as if it were a tool that has failed the task we set it. Curiously, when the thing we dream for comes into view, our relief and joy can also cause us to abandon hope, because it has served us and we feel we no longer require it. I forget to be hopeful when all is well – I forget to polish up the hope that is in me when I am most glad.

Watercolour- Nonah N/SSJD

The good news, it seems to me, is that hope has a life of its own. Yes, it hides in the undergrowth while I stroll in the bright pastures but it bounds out like a deer when my path bends down into the valley of shadows. It is never far away. It grows dim and it burns bright. It breathes and pulses. Even when discarded through joy or grief, it is still following me: nearby, a silent friend, not quite tame.

As my daughter stormed through her bleak teens, I had moments when I struggled to feel hopeful for her, and I had other moments when I was so grateful that she had found some joy and courage, or even that she was just feeling okay in her own skin for a little while. There were anxious nights when hope did indeed hide in the bushes. But the spaces of confidence grew longer and longer and today she lives the fulfilling life of an artist, loved and encouraged by her husband. I am so proud and grateful that she has found her own bright pastures, and made her own learning of the wild ways of hope.

When I sit with God, asking my hard questions and sending up my songs of praise and awe; I sense hope’s pathways, rustling between questions and gratitude, the struggles and the love. I hope (there’s that word!) you sense this presence, too.

 – Julie Poskitt