Hope is a many splendored thing

The other day I found myself referring to hope as an annoying flutter. It hasn't always been this way but I guess I'm just used to disappointment more than joy. Its hard to focus on the positive when there is a black cloud following you everywhere. But what I see sometimes is just a mirage of deception so if and when I close my eyes I can see more clearly. Hope isn't always displayed in color, it also ebbs and flows in the dark night of the soul.
I remember so clearly one night as I lay on a bed of despair. I was so overwhelmed with failure that I wanted to sleep and never wake up. As I closed my eyes and slowed my breathing, I imagined myself falling into an endless pit. I figured if I hit the bottom that I wouldn't feel pain anymore. And as I rapidly fell, I heard a voice say, "This is not what I have for you!" And immediately my course of direction changed as if I was being pushed up and out of darkness. My eyes shot open and I realized that even when I gave up on myself, God couldn't. I just cried myself a river. I shook so hard from crying that it scared me a bit. I didn't know how deep this emotion was because I had been so detatched from any real emotion.

Hope can become annoying when its the only thing reminding you that life doesn't entirely suck. It is wonderful if you allow it access to your wounded and broken soul. Hope is a beautiful fragrance that delights the senses if you let it.