Be patient, beloved,
until the coming of the Lord.
The farmer waits for the precious crop from the earth,
being patient with it until it receives the early and the late rains.
You also must be patient.
Strengthen your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is near.
Hope is not wishing: no, not that tentative.
Hope is not wanting: no, not that self-centered.
Hope is trust in grace unseen,
already there, already unfolding,
the seed beneath, the child within.
Hope is surrender to a greater movement,
acceptance that I am the thread
and the tapestry is vast.
Hope is confidence in spring as winter approaches.
Hope is belief in the fullness of time.
Hope is knowing in death and suffering
there is a healing presence.
Hope is patience, letting grace take its time.
Hope is planting ourselves in a future
that exists only in our acting:
raising children, loving enemies, planting trees.
Hope is awaiting the One Who is Here.
Hope … here.
December 9, 2019