Is nine years a long time?
Nine years is how long this little red dress hung on its plush, velvet hanger at the far side of the guest-bedroom closet. A son came, and God did not open my womb again.
And I never quite knew what to do with the silk -little, rosy red dress.
And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year:“Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown.” And he replied:“Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the Hand of God.That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way.” I…
We’ve had our share of disappointment. Maybe more than our share. The bench time, the botched semester, multiple mediations that went nowhere fast. Lots of hopes dashed.
But there’s that other hope—the hope that won’t disappoint. That’s what this post is about. You’ve got to know about that hope.
Are you a prisoner of hope? I am. It’s just not in me to give up. I simply cannot not hope. Which is not to say my hopes aren’t dashed. I hoped one son would get the start. He didn’t. I hoped another one would get a lead. He didn’t. I hoped my husband and…