Hope and Mary Poppins

Hope.  It is such a small word, and a four letter word to boot.  Webster defines it as "To wish for something with expectation of its fulfillment".   The Greek root in the Bible defines it as a "confident expectation".  The Hebrew defines it as "to wait, be patient".  That tells us what it means, but what is hope really?


To some, I expect, it is a wish list.  "I hope I get such and such for my birthday."  And there is nothing wrong with that, we do it all the time.  "I hope I don't get sick, or have a flat tire".  And while these are sincere "hopes", the world won't come to an end if these hopes aren't realized.

To others it may mean we have to wait.  I never pray for patience anymore, because I don't like the lessons I have to learn in order to gain that gift.  No one likes to wait, none of us are patient.  And yet we do, some wait for a lifetime to see the fulfillment of that hope.

As a believer in Christ, I take great comfort in His definition of hope.  It is an expectation, yes.  But it isn't all wishy-washy. . . I can believe with confidence.  I know that my hope will be fulfilled one day.  I love hindsight . . . it is always 20/20.  And when I look back over a lifetime, that hope has been fulfilled in ways that I never would have considered.  While not necessarily in my game plan, it was always unexpected and exciting.  And often much better than I had "hoped" for.  My rather loose definition of hope is "blessed for trusting".

Now trust is a whole different matter.  Trust is earned.  I trust because I have been shown beyond all

My pocket cross.

shadow of a doubt that what was promised will be fulfilled.  I can hope, yes, but to be confident in that hope, I must trust.  Someone
gave me this "pocket cross"  when I was heading for a dark time.  It is my constant reminder that I can trust.  And this little rock was found in the bottom of my hole on a day when I desperately needed hope.

I went to see the new rendition of "Mary Poppins" this week.  It was fun, uplifting, joyful.  And as I sat watching it, I kept thinking that Mary Poppins would "twiggle" her nose and make everything all better.  She would solve all the problems, make them all go away and all would live  happily ever after.  Not so.  But she did instill hope into a "hopeless" situation.  She encouraged, uplifted, but still allowed her "family" to suffer through their problems to the very last second, when they solved it by themselves . . . with a little help from their friends.

There are times I have been accused of being a "Mary Poppins".  I used to think that was a bit of a slight.  Not anymore!  If I can lift you up, encourage your endeavor, put a smile on your face . . . then I will be glad to lift up my umbrella an fly with you!  Can I fix your problem?  No.  Can you fix mine?  Probably not.  But you can be my "Mary Poppins" when I need one, or be there for someone else.  It is not so hard.  Simply be confidently expecting the best from a person or a situation.  And if that is what you expect, it will probably happen!

Just writin' on the River Road

I got one!

One of the reasons I like Christmas is that I get mail.  You know, REAL mail . . . in an envelope with a stamp on it, delivered to my box.  As a younger person, before computers, I used to live for the mailman so I could see if someone had written me a letter.  Back then we had "pen pals".  It was such fun to get mail and then rush right in to answer their missive.  Or what about those old "love" letters?  Did you keep any of those?  Those had special thoughts and feelings just for me.  I even have some that my Grandmother wrote to my grandfather when he was homesteading on the prairies of North Dakota in the very early 1900's.  What a personal history to share with my children and grandchildren.  Letters back then were rare and precious. Now those old  letters I have are extra

Love those Christmas cards!

precious to me since the people are gone.  My mother kept every card I ever sent her for birthdays, Mother's Day, and other occasions.  She literally had drawers full of them.  Obviously they meant something to her.

I recently got a letter from our niece after the holidays.  It was four pages of handwritten news about her family.  What a delight!  Yes, it was nice to get the news, but even more special was the fact that she had taken time to sit down and hand write a letter.  Because it does take time and thought.  There is nothing wrong with

Precious memories from years ago!

texting, but how much information to you get?  How much time does it take the sender to message you?  I felt special and important that someone had decided I was worth more than a mere flick of the finger and a couple words.

Communication seems to have fallen by the wayside in our lives.  We don't talk to each other anymore, we text or e-mail.  Those are one sided communiques, a conversation is two sided.  Is it really that much harder to pick up the telephone and talk where you can hear the joy or pain in a voice?  I have admitted my love for words and thus, I send lengthy, detailed e-mails to my friends, albeit they are one sided (mine) but I am ever so patiently waiting to hear their side.  They may prefer something shorter but it isn't in me to leave out details.

This week my partners and I had a work day at the The Calico Cupboard.  We took a lunch break at a local restaurant and just visited for a little while.  It was special, it was personal, it wasn't about work.  I believe we need to do that more often.  How hard is it to call a friend for coffee or lunch or short get away?  I suspect they need it as much as you do.  We connect, we empathize, we share, we listen.  And we leave feeling better . . . needed, wanted, loved.

So do you want to touch someone's life this year?  Then really touch them.  Stop for a visit, invite them to join you, listen to what is important in their life, include them in an activity.  Not so hard, but it does take time.  A good man once told me that love is spelled "t-i-m-e".  And I believe he was right.  If we truly care, we will give two of the most important things we have . . . our time and our ability to listen.

Just writin' on the River Road