Have we lost it?
The month of November started with the death of a beautiful, young woman. While many applauded and spoke of a courageous victory, I ached.
News of suicide attempts over the Thanksgiving weekend. While many shopped for the latest and greatest, I wept.
I read a book, while fiction, still represented so much of the “right to die” acceptance that I felt heavy from it. At the end while others said, “What a great book,” I raged.
People resorting to violence because their sense of justice wasn’t satisfied. Women being told that giving life to a child who may have a “defect” is unloving… and it goes on and on. I prayed.
I still can’t let it go.
Honestly, I know a little bit of what it’s like to feel that desperation to have some control over the pain, especially in November. I clung to hope.
And here we are now in December. A month to celebrate the Life and Hope that came into the world.
With all this in my heart, I wonder… Is this happening because we have lost hope?
When did we toss aside the only real Hope for a get-what-you-want-right-now gumball machine that will run out?
Hope didn’t come into the world in a box with pretty tissue paper and a bow. He came amidst a mother’s pain. He came bloodied and weak and crying. We will find the seed of hope in the very place where it hurts. It’s the only place to find it.
Hope is not in the boxes under the tree, we must look up and see Hope hanging from it.