In my last email, I wrote about the journey of this
tree going from a gorgeous full canopy of flowers and leaves, to the devastated remnants that you can see in my photo. I shared the take-home lessons relevant to each of us. If you missed it, click HERE.
Last week held some significant unexpected bumps for me. With pain in my heart, I took a walk this morning, looked at the tree I loved so much, and thought to myself, I feel about as tattered as she looks.
But those scraggly few branches hold hope. Look at them reaching for the sky. There are always a few parts of me willing to hope again too, after some type of devastation. Even if we can't feel it today, tomorrow always holds out hope to each of us.
Suddenly I realized, hope isn't this random fairy-schmairy thing that some of us can conjure up. Hope is a decision. Hope is a firm willingness to come out from under the darkest cloud of never, always and impossible.
Even if it's quiet, faint, and barely there, hope can begin again, start small and grow. It's a decision available to each of us.
Today, I may give in to sorrow and the pain in my chest. I may cry and scream, bang pot
lids with wooden spoons until they break, and bury my face in a wet pillow with a full-blown, "Why Me?" pity party. But tomorrow, or the next day, I will decide to hope again. I will choose to continue a life filled with hope. It's the only way to live.
If you're hurting today, despite the lying voice in your head that would have you believe otherwise, YOU ARE NOT ALONE. You matter. You will survive. You are stronger than you think. You are an inspiration to many, even though you may never know it. Have your cry when you need to, but keep going. Dare to hope again.
