Hopeful
Heart
“In the
bulb, there is a flower;
in the
seed, and apple tree;
in
cocoons, a hidden promise
butterflies
will soon be free!
In the
cold and snow of winter
there's a
spring that waits to be,
unrevealed
until its season,
something
God alone can see...”
Natilie
Sleeth, 1986 (“In the Bulb There Is a Flower;” Hymn of Promise)
We sang this hymn last
Sunday and it's been playing in my head ever since. Perhaps that's
because we are in a time that sorely needs hopeful reminders. There
are things that this summer has brought that I am hopeful about—one
is the weather. I'm sitting on my porch on August 6th, and
the temperature is a cool 72 degrees. This has been the coolest,
wettest summer I can remember since moving to Birmingham in 1980. I
know it's abnormal, but I'm eternally grateful. I hope it is a trend
and not an aberration.
Here's another word of
hope: I read a piece of research this week that found older people
are happier than younger people. The researcher, Yang Yang,
University of Chicago sociologist, followed 28,000 people, aged 18 to
88, from 1972 until 2004, and found that the happiness quotient went
up 5% with each ten years of life. Not only is old age not the
dreaded death march we think of, but it is a time of relative
contentment and joy. It is something to look forward to if you're 18 to 25 now.
I can speak to the truth
of this myself. My perception is that over time we give up the goal
of perfection, we make peace with the fact that we did not become a
millionaire by the age of 30, and that life is good even if we don't
own a beach house, didn't win a Pulitzer, and don't spend our summers
on the Riviera. Simple pleasures and sweet relationships make life
good—not mega-achievements or mega-mansions. And, as one ages, one
begins to appreciate life itself—just being alive is a gift.
There is hope in this
world. It resides in the hearts of human beings. We must guard it
closely, share it generously, and never let it slip away.
In the Spirit,
Jane
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