Isaiah 2:1-5 ; Romans 13:11-14 ; Matthew 24:36-44 Hope Can't-Wait, a poem by the Rev. Sarah Are: Someone once told me that hope was naive— A foolish game that children play When they pray that summer won’t end, and bedtime won’t come. Someone once told me that hope was naive as they cradled pessimism in their lap like a sleeping cat, Stroking their ego while they stoked a fire within me. Unfortunately for them, I’m allergic to cats. And unfortunately for them, those who deny hope will never know vulnerability; For hope requires us to believe in a better day — even when this one is falling apart. Hope looks the 24-hour news cycle in the face, Hope looks our broken relationships in the face, Hope looks our low self-esteem in the face, And declares at low tide that the water will return. Hope is exhaling, trusting that your body will inhale again. Hope is watching the sunset and setting an alarm. Hope is planting seeds in the winter, assuming summer will come. I never said it would be...
Sermons, random thoughts, and general musings are what you will find here. Sometimes a faithful question may appear, for faith is not an end but rather a beginning, and it is in seeking that we find.