Hope is that thing with feathers
That perches in the soul...
It’s a lovely little poem. Unfortunately, the problem with things with feathers is that if they are not put in a cage, or locked in a room, or if a wing is not clipped, they have a habit of flying off.
We learned a valuable lesson this week about not trusting too much in the hope that men offer. We were hoping too much in a medical treatment that is not an option now, and for a moment we were left floundering. We didn’t know what to think or what to say, because the oncologist took away our hope.
A little while later, though, I happened to open the Psalms to these verses:
Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord;
O Lord, hear my voice.
Let your ears be attentive to my cry for mercy...
I will wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in His word I put my hope....
So, today as we head out to Springfield to wait while our boy undergoes another operation, we once again have hope...
1 comment:
My prayers are with you.
Post a Comment