Hope for Change.
Emily Dickinson called hope a thing with feathers.
Love her as I do.
I gotta tell ya. She was wrong.
There are no feathers.
What are you hoping in?
Your health insurance?
Your kids’ school?
I know. Me, too.
I don’t like putting it like that.
But all of those things can fail. At their best, they only serve one area of your life. If they are not in co-operation with one another, they are going to take turns messing you over. They amount to a pantheon of a world that approves all and in that way approves nothing.
None of those can protect or satisfy.
Only God can do both.
I don’t presume to become a faith blogger. I’ve been too…too… faithless. Self-reliant and defiant.
And here I am.
I just knew I was supposed to write about placing our hope in someone whose ways are higher than ours. Thoughts are higher than ours. Who sings songs over us with joy.
I guess you’ll know who you are if you find this.
I’m going out on the porch to see if a bird will land in my soul.