I am what you desperately seek, but oft times am concealed by malevolent spirits. Despair blinds your eyes to my simple gifts, but this doesn’t mean you’ve been forsaken to madness and death.
I am HOPE, although I have many other names:
Joy, delight, pleasure, wonder, rapture, happiness…
The thin, orange sun-ray on a crisp morning; a baby’s smile; the beams of light bursting through the darkness after the rain; a mother’s hug; a single blade of grass poking through a broken street; the kindness of a stranger.
That’s me.
Since the beginning of time, the entirety of my existence has been to partner humanity with God the Creator. As of late, however, shadows have crept into the atmosphere of my beloved Earth. I am brother to life itself, and long to blanket you in the enchantment of pure bliss, but am tricky to obtain these days, it seems.
“Sign of the times,” they say.
You must understand, the enemy of your soul—that is, Lucifer, the Devil, Satan, that ole serpent from ancient times—busies himself day and night to camouflage me, utilizing every weapon in his bag of tricks. Despair was once the exception, but in the 21st century it seems to be the rule.
Yet I hover directly above you, vying for your attention in red and yellow sunsets. I am the gentle branch which taps on your window at night, drawing your eyes toward a glowing moon. I am that quick peek of sun between storms.
Love and laughter are my native language, expressed in the giggle of a toddler, the playful nuzzle of a puppy and the exultation of the Christmas season.
My name is squealed in the throes of a roller coaster ride. I tickle the senses with the smell of hot apple pie wafting through open windows in Spring.
I encircle you daily, and while dark spirits work diligently to cloud your eyes to my simple delights, they can only be fully successful if you allow them. Should you close your mind to my easy comforts, desolation will overtake your beautiful soul.
Guaranteed.
I’ve been witness to this since the beginning of time, and the self-cessation of existence haunts me relentlessly.
Exquisite passions slain.
Gorgeous, beaming smiles, terminated in an instant.
Ten thousand battles to carry the light of love to a dying spirit, abolished in one bleak moment.
When another lovely soul chooses death over life, my heart never stops breaking. My soul never ceases to weep.
Witness my sorrow in the angry storms of April! Rushing through furious skies, my tears become the torrential rain which saturates the land of the living!
Yet, tragic as this is, I shall never stop fighting for your attention. I will never stop raging against your dark night of the soul.
Open your eyes, precious one, and see that I am everywhere all at once.
Without hope we will wither up an die a sad and lonely death.
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Very true. Seems like hope is in short supply these days, and people need to be reminded of even the smallest joys in life.
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