It is all about balance, holding precariously on to what seems only the thinnest line of hope. God is good in the details, He does so visible all over nature; dew drops clinging to a spider web on a crisp morning. So tentative in the holding on...Mijo hopes that the future will hold as much life as her present. Nick hopes to find his voice in the chorus of shouting 15year old boys. Scott hopes to keep working after the end of this turn-around. He hopes to find his purpose in a world full of wanderer's. I hope that age will not limit opportunity and that as I let the kids go, I hope the absence won't render me full of angst.
I hope sanity will win over rhetoric in our public offices. I hope teenagers will choose the hard way rather than the easy nonsense. I hope my extended family figures out how to communicate consistently rather than sporadically. I hope to break patterns of behavior and thinking and replace with what is simple and holy. I hope to know God's pleasure and hear His voice.
These are strings of pearls...a collection of hope, hanging on precariously.
God's prayer beads
2 comments:
Love the way you thread thoughts together - keep threading!! - lew
Ditto! So beautifully said.
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