Hope
I was once full of hope, but it was a hope so hollow it got easily crushed beneath the boot of hard times and angry feelings. I thought I could buy or elect hope, yet it turns out hope’s not for sale no matter how pure of heart the seller, or how desperately hope is needed. Hope groans from deep within and struggles to stand on its own. It creeps into the hearts of the broken, and it sounds like an old man weeping. You’ll know that you’ve found hope alive in your heart when you begin to see each day like a child— the continuous, never-ending story, of your tiny life within infinite possibility.
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- Second Communion · September 23‹ SilenceWhat's Eating Me ›