The garden has always been a place of peace for me. A sanctuary. A place…
I tend to be contemplative.
Particularly as I end a year.
Christmas has been put away.
It is a memory now.
For some it is to be tucked away, treasured on difficult days. A time when all seemed right.
Even for a moment. Brief as it may be.
For others it is to be packed up. Hauled away. Forgotten.
Eternal as it seemed.
No matter what our experience was just days ago, we are all at the moment of closing out a year.
For some, a triumph.
For others, defeat.
Whether at one extreme, or somewhere in between, I pray that we can all rise New Year’s morning with a renewed sense of hope.
Because hope always is. Always will be.
It is life.
It is the hope that sustains. Carries. Lifts.
It redeems the dark past and lights the future.
Hope keeps me from seeing only the few days ahead.
It sets my gaze on the millions of years to come.
Now that’s something to contemplate.
Happy New Year!