I’ve been thinking a lot about hope this past week. Our own Robin Helm faced a number of medical challenges, including a cancer scare that looked like a done deal. The only question was the extent. We prayed; God gave His answer. No cancer. Robin is in the clear. We are rejoicing in His grace.
Do join us in praying for her sister, Gayle Mills. She will begin cancer treatments soon. We are trusting in God’s grace to see her safely through.
For Thursday’s post I shared a poem about little boats sailing downstream. In looking it up, I encountered the one below about hope.
Ah, hope, both delicate and tenacious. It is seen in full strength during the worst of times.
Owls are my second-favorite animal, after cats–and so because Dickenson mentions feathers, I had to have owls. Even though owls don’t properly sing …
“Hope” is the thing with feathers
by Emily Dickinson
“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –
And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –
I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.