Day 28: Semantics and settling

Maybe it’s all just about semantics.  Language is a squirrely little thing.  Words are just one way of trying to figure things out.  They’re enough to help us get ideas across to each other, but no word means the exact same thing to anyone, and they all fall short.  My idea of hope is different enough from what the general public’s idea of hope is that it creates a gap.  And I’m okay with that.

And regardless of how I feel about hope, here we are at Christmas.  Hope doesn’t stop time.  The next things happen whether I hope for them or not.  We have trudged through Advent and expectations and hustle, and we are here.  We made it.

I feel a settling.  Not like I’m settling for something or settling for less, not that kind of settle.  It’s the kind of settle where I can set things down.  I can release and relax and recognize that it is far from perfect, but it is here.  I think my people know I love them.  It’s the kind of settle where the weary soul rejoices in the relief.  It is real and honest and true.  It is gut-punch-ingly painful and breathtakingly beautiful.  And it is mine. 

It is more than I could hope for.