I've been learning a lot about hope these days, particularly about having hope in a season where I think it would be easier to abandon it entirely.
But that's the thing about having faith in a God who has my best interests at heart.
In the times when I'd like to just walk away, I know better.
I once blogged about feeling like I didn't really know what it meant to hope after I heard a dear friend share her heart on the tough ways she learned to hope. On Saturday, I had a conversation with that same friend that put things into perspective once again.
I think Emily Dickinson hit the nail on the head when she wrote that hope never stops and never asks anything of us, but I think she was off a little when she described it as "the thing with feathers".
Because hope has a weight to it.
It meets you right where you are and picks you up and helps you walk on.
It whispers encouragement and holds you accountable.
It reminds you that the thing that you long for the most and search for so avidly won't be fulfilled by this world, but by Jesus Christ.
And most of all, it paves the way for joy.