yesterday someone asked me the question 'why do i hope?'
good question, isn't it?
here's what i came up with.....
that couldn't stand the test of time and the weariness of life
were the very first reasons that I believed in hope. Beliefs
always turned out right in the end, and good always prevailed.
gave me hope. But when I reached a certain age, those beliefs
within me. I saw things not always end 'right' and good get
trampled to shreds.
For a little while there, that shattering devastated me. The
colors went out of my world.
I was lost.
But after awhile i realized that there were other things in some
of the darkest places
besides that darkness that was so overwhelming. I saw people
survive when the odds
were against them. And I saw people do more than survive, I saw
them become more
than who they were when they entered the darkness. Not everyone,
no. But some.
Some truly bright and amazing souls who were like blazing
torches to me. I knew I had
a choice - focus on the blackness or stare into the light.
I feel like hope was burned into me in that time of my life.
The young and innocent beliefs I had carried so many years
before turned into a deep
and strong belief in the capacity of our human spirit, and yes,
of the strength of love.
I know now that things don't always end 'right' and that good
doesn't always win.
But I also know that the power of our authentic selves shared
openly and honestly
has a strength that is beyond comprehension.I know that love has
a power beyond me,
and one I don't always understand, but it is always something I
need to hold. I know that
I am alive when I hope and I am dead inside when I give that
away. And I know that I
never want to live without it again.