I have hope on my wall. I’m not asking for hope. I have hope on my wall already. It was given to me a long time ago. Not the thing on the wall, the thing in my being, my soul, my heart, the thing given to me with the acceptance of my destiny.
We live on such a diverse planet, where freedoms and choices have people clamboring for their own rights and time allotments for a myriad of projects, and hope is just an afterthought. I’m hoping today my realtor closes the deal on a home I am trying to buy. Someone else, somewhere else is hoping for something else.
The control freak in me has fought against letting go and letting God, or what or whoever you think dictates your path, take the reins. You ever notice that no matter how hard you try to determine your fate, the bigger your hopes, the harder they may fall, and in turn become harder to swallow.
Stepping into the world of faith wasn’t easy, and I still kick and scream on my way in and out. I know in my heart that I should go rudderless, but my human head will hear nothing of it. There is a peace that comes from acceptance, and acceptance of that peace is elusive to even the most adamant of explorers. Giving yourself to an unforced plan can be frightening, and not knowing the outcome of any situation is the hardest part of acceptance.
I chose to give up and let God. So far so good, but continues to be a daily struggle to not grab the steering wheel. Hope is wrapped around belief for me, and I hope your hope has a strong base and a sturdy handle.
The third rock from the sun is spinning fast and cause and effect has a predictable regularity. It comes without permission and doesn’t wait for anyone. Hope is all we have.

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