I hope you dance

dec 16
hope.  seems so well timed and almost cliche at this time.  I feel like this word is more than just a one-post thing, but the reality is that this week is going to be insanely busy and one post a week is all I'm managing right now.  I know darn well that I won't really be able to do my thoughts on this any justice, but I'll try my best!

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder, you get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger, may you never take one single breath for granted, God forbid love ever leave you empty handed, I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean, whenever one door closes I hope one more opens, promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance, and when you get the choice to sit it out or dance. I hope you dance.  {lee ann womack}

hope, like joy and peace before it is not simple.  it's not a wish.  it's not an "I want".  it's not simple nor is it a trite desire.

{not me...}

dec 23
it's taken me a week to write this, mainly because I couldn't think of how to put my thoughts into words and give them meaning.  I still am not sure I'm making any sense, so bear with me.

hope.
morning comes after the long, dark night.
spring comes after the cold winter.
pregnancy gives way to birthing which brings new life.
the new moon comes on it's lunar cycle.
the sun rises in the east and sets in the west...even when it doesn't make an appearance.
joy follows the time of sorrow.

there are many things that are unpredictable in our lives, but many that are securely fastened.  they are predictable.  reliable.  promises we know to be true.  in a world of chaos, I'm going to put my hope in the predictable.  the promised.  the true.

life is hard.  filled with heart break and sorrow.  filled with unrealized dreams and expectations.  but it will all pass.  hope is bigger than a wish.  bigger than compassion.  it's knowing that although the winter is long, dark and cold that spring always comes.  always.