It has been hard for me to write about hope this week.
The countless details in getting ready for Christmas and the other obligations which pile up around us at this time of year and my concern for my Dad swallow up time and energy leaving me feeling empty. Or pensive. Or…something.
And, yet Christmas comes.
Thank God, Christmas comes.
But, with everything that I has filled these days I have learned or been reminded of two things.
First, it is hard to hold onto hope in a vacuum.
Life pushes in hard in so many ways.
For so many people it is all they can do to just do the next thing.
To make it through this moment to the next.
With little time or energy left for anything else.
That is when others matter.
When you matter.
Others who hold on with you and for you.
Who remind you of those things too easily forgotten in your weariness and worry.
I don’t know how they do it.
Those who, for whatever reason, find themselves trying to face it all on their own.
Second, this week has reminded me that hope is more a choice than a feeling.
This week I have certainly have not felt it.
Not felt hope or hopeful.
My feelings have been more in the direction of sadness and pensiveness.
But, I can still chose hope.
I can still chose to believe that God is.
And, that the long arc bends in the direction of justice.
And, that good people will prevail.
And, that kindness matters.
And makes a difference.
And that my life matters.
And your life matters.
And my Dad’s life matters.
Today, I choose all that and more.