Hope is picking up the pen, opening the laptop, scratching out words you simply must scratch out now, even though they might only mean anything to you. Because you simply must.

Hope is tying the laces fiercely, running fiercely, sprinting fiercely, or simply walking fiercely, because even though this might only mean anything to you, it simply means everything to you.

Hope is putting on a pot of tea or a pot of beans or a pot of soup instead of checking the news because even though the news is important, your soul is more important just now.

Now is, or just might be, a slow-cooked pot of soup time. A fiercely running or sprinting or walking time. A scratching out words or maybe even speaking them or maybe even printing them on a poster-board kind of time.

Now just might be a showing-up kind of time.

This is what hope looks like. Now.

Picking up the pen.

Lacing up the shoes.

Knowing what sort of time it really is. Here. And now.

And then showing up and doing what you need to do. Here. And now.

xo,

LuAnne