Faith is hope deferred

and sometimes deferred, deferred, deferred

Do I play the fool in holding on

Or is it pride speaking in refusing to let go,

Refusing to admit I am wrong?

Or is this hope real

In a year, five years, ten

Can I look back and say

“Your best decision was never giving up”?

Hope springs forth eternal

Longings of our hearts acted out in our lives

Unquenchable desire for something beautiful

Even if we only see the bottom of the quilt now.

We are messes of men, but

I am compelled to believe

That out of mystery and chaos

Comes beauty and order

And meaning

And that all manner of things shall be well.



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