- Faith & Family
There’s a tiny hole in my heart — slowly, I am approaching my death in the wake of a promise that has yet to be fulfilled. Ironically, that promise was not made directly to me; it was supposedly made to my mother. She said that God had promised to give me back to her by allowing us to reunite in the free world someday. And so, as I live each day of my life not knowing exactly how much time is still left on the clock, I am desperately hoping that this one particular promise was not made to be broken.
Hope is the symbol of everything that we want and/or don’t want to materialize in our lives. It is the fuel in the tank of our hearts that gives us the the strength to press on, to believe in the possibilities of arriving at some point of achievement. When all hope has been exhausted —whether the things that we have hoped for has been delivered to us or not — only then are we willing to detach ourselves from what it once meant to us, and then we begin to hope for something new.
People hope on different levels: we have small hopes just as well as the kinds of hope that largely define who we are. To not hope for anything at all would mean that man would have to exist in this world as blank spot, with no particular interest in life, which is why hope is considered the very essence of the human spirit.
Sometimes hope is all that we can do when situations are beyond our control. It is the little fight still left in us, even when we are rendered powerless to act on our own in an effect to bring about change.
As with most things in life, though, hope has an enemy: its called pessimism. Usually, pessimism is manifested through our own negative thinking, but is often times conveyed through the mouths of those who take pleasure in pouring scorn over our ability to keep hope alive. I personally hear it all the time from some inmates who are expecting to be released from prison soon whenever the officers act offensively towards inmates: “Oh! If I had a life sentence — man, I would snap on the police in a heartbeat.” I always say to them: if you had a million years to do in prison and just a glimmer of hope that your sentence would one dat change, you would probably avoid doing anything that would make your situation worse than what it already is. Instead of looking to rise up against the officers each day, you would wake up every morning hoping for a better tomorrow.
And, if you were like me, you would be tremendously grateful to have a mother who is not yet ready to pull the plug on a promise that even I am beginning to believe the good Lord has made to her.
By Arthur Lee Hall Jr.