This week in church we talked about nervous hope.
The context was an end-of-harvest fall festival that is both a celebration of the bounty and hard work completed, as well as a ritual executed in the hopes of avoiding total drought until the next rainy season. Where everyone nervously hopes that they won't be near-dead, dried up husks by spring.
The idea of nervous hope feels so rich for me right now. A hope that is present but so fragile, so unsure. There is so much in life we don't have control over, and sometimes all we can do is move forward with a nervous hope that we won't be left in a drought forever.
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