Hope is illusive, perhaps for almost anyone who is not a child. When you look into a child’s eyes you can see it clearly. It is the sparkle, lingering dance, and excitement that transcend color and shape. As we grow older I find that hope often dies with it, yet there are moments that everything seems bright and green again.
It is amazing what causes the change. When I think of a lost bag in a major London train station, left alone in a busy walkway leaning against a wall. There was nobody to blame except myself, no reason to demand that others help in the situation, and no rationale logic that might explain why things would work out. Yet they did. The station master said it was my “lucky” day. Perhaps, but it was also a gift of hope that I did not deserve but treasure far beyond the value of the good inside.
I saw the parents of a bubbling six month old girl greetings people at the back of a church. Nothing was announced, it just happened. While normally quite sedate, they were flooding the room with smiles, cheerful talk, and introductions to their hope. Did the sleepless nights matter? The answer had to be “not really”. Was the uncertainty of the future overwhelming them? They were purely in the present. Were they grabbling with the fears and doubts that all parents have? The smile and sounds of the baby girl said everything.
I see a girl weighed down by the pressures and uncertainties of growing up. She faces battles more complex and demanding than in my day; how could I possibly know the answer? Perhaps the answer is not in the future but in the present. It is easy to say that “a healthy spirit conquers adversity, but what can you do when the spirit is crushed?” (Proverbs 18.15) The only response that matters is the same on found in a London train station and in the eyes of a baby girl; hope.
God offers each unconditional love, mercy, and acceptance; hope.
