I love Hope. Having said that, I often find Hope to be a slippery friend. As soon as I think I am in Hope’s grasp, hope seems to disappear while, often in the same instant, I find myself struggling with despair.
I think I am only looking at one side of Hope. Hope is always here. Even when I think I cannot see, feel, or touch Hope, it is a reflection of how blindness, numbness, and reluctance are attacking my soul. The tension of this conflict has been around so long that I am come to think it is natural. In the cloud that is born in the struggle, it is easy to lose sight of Hope. In the tiredness that comes from the unending push and pull, it is natural to grasp others threads that are masquerading as Hope. Even the very idea of Hope becomes illusive in the chaos of the ordinary.
Today I received a care package from a group of people I have never met. Joe, Amy, Kim, Shasta, Di, Sarah, Jon, Kaitlyn, Mayorca, Zac, Marot, Ben, Steven, Maria, and a few unknown signatures representing individuals with heart responded to in their unique way when Lauralea shared my story. To say I was shocked would be an English understatement. Floored, touched, overwhelmed, stunned, and amazed would all begin to convey the emotions that flooded my soul. If I am ever within driving distance of Norwalk Connecticut, I will personally say thank-you to the Route 7 Starbucks Team! Their gift was so much more than six pounds of coffee, a grinder, and an awesome filter. It was a box filled with priceless optimism, the embrace of an extended family, and Hope.
In olden days, there were those that were struggling to understand how family could be greater than it was. When they saw how “no sooner were these words out of Peter's mouth than the Holy Spirit came on the listeners,” (Acts 10.44) they knew.
I often wondered how big family can be. Today I had a taste; it is awesome.
