Hope is a sandwich, prepared by your 7 year old. There will be a day when any of us could make dinner or pour juice.
Hope is 5 trash bags of children’s clothing in the back of your van, ready to be shared with the Pregnancy Crisis Center. There could be a day when we don’t feel sad about the clutter in our house.
Hope is the 10 pm meltdown of one of your children, because you realize it’s the first one of the unusually long, napless day. There will very likely be a day when he doesn’t squirm on the floor and make alien cat sounds because you asked him to go to the bathroom.
I am so thankful for the little ways God reminds me to anticipate good with confidence. Jesus loves me, this I know. Yes, it’s because the Bible tells me so — but also because of a sandwich, some trash bags, and a sweet, cranky boy.