hope

A living breathing testament to hope, my amazing son

Hope is a little plant in my heart that won't die. Even through the years of infertility where my body tried and tried to make a baby and failed, this little plant kept growing. Each time it was cut down to the roots it would survive and grow back.

Even as I watched my Dad suffer, hope would not die. It hurts to hope as hope can be fragile and hope can be cut back. But for me hope does not die. At times life was very dark as my Dad struggled and hope seemed as if it was gone. But it grew back. A few green leaves and then a strong green shoot. And there it was again, hope.

Natural hope for my mother is gone. And the hope I held in my heart that she was healed was cut back. That hurt a lot. But now as with my Dad I am looking past this present time. I know it's going to get a lot worse. But I am unafraid. The hope I have in my heart is whispering of forever. Of a time when my mother will see my father again. There will be a line of people waiting to love her. Her own mother, her father and my Dad. And of course her True Love.

Life will get dark again. Very dark and maybe hope will be cut back again. But I know that hope can not die. Because my hope comes from Hope Himself.