Kids are beginning to build their wish lists for Christmas. Yesterday, I babysat our great-granddaughter, who turns four within a month. She spotted the toy catalogs. They were on the couch for planning. As she began to turn the pages, her favorite expression was in the repeat mode. I want this, this, this, too, and on and on. “This” totaled about fifty items.
She has high hopes. Hopes and dreams start early in life, wrapped in the innocence and purity of childhood. Sometimes, these hopes blossom into reality. Then, there are those other times.
Adults are children in bigger clothes. They, too, have hopes and dreams. Some are willing to work long and hard for them. Contentment may arrive soon for some, but for most, it’s later, if ever. As age advances, earthly hopes may be fleeting.
Spiritual hopes have a way of increasing as the days and years go by. Advanced age brings peace and hope for another day—with health. Tranquility creates a new norm for observing the youth with all their energy and aspirations.
Hope has new meaning for those with wrinkles and a lack of energy—the hope of sparing the young and the not-so-young some heartaches and heartbreaks along the way.
As we age, purpose and sharing begin to creep into the picture. We start to wonder what eternity will be like and how we can prepare ourselves and help others do the same. Hope becomes a guiding force, a new source, and a spring of freshness. It’s hope that fuels our actions and the belief that one day, they, too, will find hope for those they love.
Hope for the day and tomorrow replenishes our spring of hope, which never really dies.
“It is good that one should hope and wait quietly” (Lamentations 3:26 NKJV)
