This has been an intense week in my little corner of the world. I'm reminded of a conversation I had with Rev. Dr. Jose Martinez at the beginning of the pandemic. We talked about the necessity of hope. He told me that despair is what happens when our stories about the future don't include hope. I've written this to you before, and it can't be overstated. It is necessary for us to continue to feel hope daily. I offer this poem to you today. “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.
Author: Emily Dickinson
Title: “Hope” is the thing with feathers
My invitation for you ahead of Sunday worship is to pay attention to the stories you are hearing. What are the stories your family members are telling you? Your friends? What are you reading about in the newspaper? Or hearing about on TV news broadcasts? Are there commonalities? Differences? We'll explore these patterns and more together Sunday.