Bubbles of Hope

I'm thinking about hope these days, how it bubbles up out of nowhere and catches me off guard...and then disappears again.  I'm reading Paul's letter to the Romans, which has crazy promises scrawled all through its pages about how God cultivates and works with hope.  So now I'm imagining it like water: up in the clouds, sometimes raining down, soaked up by thirsty ground, stored down deep for us to draw on later when we need it.

And we need it.

I look for hope in books. My friend Kelly sent me a great one yesterday. (Seriously, Kelly has been the source of so many of my favorite books lately. If you're looking for recommendations, follow Kelly Hughes on Twitter. You'll be glad you did.) It's called Love & Salt: A Spiritual Friendship Shared in Letters. I opened the package, scanned the back cover, then pushed a bunch of stuff from Target off to the corner of the table so I could sit down to read.  What a gift to see the friendship of the authors, two women who met in a creative writing program, develop through letters they wrote to one another about their questions--life, relationships, failures, spirituality, how to be the people they want to be, what to do with disappointments--all the big stuff.  They don't give one another advice, exactly, but wisdom seeps out from these letters, and hope...it's as if each is of them spurs the other to think and write about things they might not have the chance to sort out otherwise. I'm excited to read more later today.

I also look for hope in Spring. I'm sooooo happy it's March. This is the toughest month here in New England. March is like detention, or being grounded (I was going to say it's like a prison sentence, but that would be a bit much): It's inevitable, so we might as well get started so we can get it over with.  March is the price we pay for April and May, and when I think about it that way, it's worth it.  So today, let the March begin.  Eventually, it will take us somewhere warm and filled with flowers :)

And finally, I find hope in small, silly things.  Princess Peach had a playdate last weekend, and in the ensuing joy & wonder, her little toy Belle lost her head.  No one is sure how it happened, but Beast was seen fleeing the scene so we all agreed to blame him, and put Belle in the ICU (read: up on the high shelf, away from THAT DOG) until some surgical superglue could be procured.  Last night Steve reattached Belle's head. I'm happy to report that Belle is recovering nicely, and will be ready to return to play at the end of the day when we pick up the Peach.

May your weekend have hope raining down and bubbling up all over. And even if it seems like everything is dry, don't believe it.  The hope is down there underneath, and it will find it's way up to you, to each of us.