Holding on to Hope

The first time I saw The Look, I was standing in my own wedding receiving line. An elderly woman who had watched me grow up spoke kind works and then looked at me as if she had a secret she couldn’t reveal.

I filed it away and didn’t think about it much until I encountered it again years later. I was giving a seminar on home organization and a woman asked me how to get teenagers motivated to clean up after themselves. Not having any teenagers to lend legitimacy to my answer, I rambled off inane advice involving colorful containers. There it was again–The Look.

The Look was everywhere  at the baby shower of my first child, despite my certainty that I already knew how to raise a perfect child. Only by now, I was beginning to sense the  unspoken dialogue behind it:

“Shall we tell her what it’s really going to be like?”

“Nah, she wouldn’t believe it anyway.”

Suddenly, the dots connected. The Look from my wedding reception and the organization seminar and the baby shower all said the same thing: “She has no idea what she’s in for.”

And I didn’t.

You want a lesson in humility? Get married. Have children. Survive teenagers.  And that’s just the beginning. Work at a job you never want to leave and then navigate retirement. Or work at one you hate and can’t leave.

It is a gift from God that we don’t know what we’re in for. Who would roll out of bed knowing that this day you would be served with divorce papers? Who would venture outside knowing that before the sun sets, you will lose your job, your health, or your fortune? Getting up each day and putting one foot in front of the other is the very personification of hope.

Most people I encounter that began life with Plan A, are well past Plan B, C or D. Fortunately, the alphabet is long. Each day, each month, each year is a chance to move forward, make new plans, and rekindle hope.

I’ve made it through a share of challenges. Undoubtedly, I have a few left. I no longer fear The Look. Instead, I’m grateful I don’t know what it’s truly going to be like. Hope keeps me moving forward.

Perhaps The Look from my elderly friend so many years ago was less a reminder of my clueless state over what was coming, and more of a reminder — when what is coming is here… hold on–to hope.