photo by: natalie rhea riggs
As Easter is around the corner, I think of my daughter.
Her hope is that she will find “Easter bunny outside with eggs and open eggs.”
I wonder, in awe, of how, after so few years of life, she finds hope in a small concept: opening the plastic eggs on Easter. She honestly doesn’t care what is inside of them. But still, she finds joy and excitement, hope and satisfaction in this concept nonetheless.
I am ashamed to say that my hope in the things this small in my life is nearly nonexistent. My hope in the bigger things is still… questionable.
Losing my childlike hope in all things and becoming an adult has been painful in some ways. Retrospectively, I realize childlike hope is wonderful, beautiful and sacred. It is pure just like the heart of a child… sustainable? Not so much.
As our hearts and minds grow, so do our expectations in our lives. We will be hurt. We will be disappointed. We will despair. We will fail.
The good thing is this: we will also learn the power of healing from the pain of being hurt. We will also learn to reflect on and work our way through our disappointments. When we despair, we can find joy in the smaller things in life. When we fail we find ourselves using physical and mental “muscles” that we never knew we had, that are then stronger than ever.
We can learn from these things. When we learn from these opposites of “hopeful” moments, we learn things like trust, faith and love. Our hope, therefore, is no longer childlike, but our hope is mightier than any other thing in this world.
I do not have to carry that childlike hope forever to experience hope this Easter or in this life.
I have hope that, for my daughter, she would find hope in all things. But mostly that she would feel my love, even when that hope isn’t there. That she would trust herself and this process called life in the moments of hopelessness. That she would still find joy in the small things- like she is today.