To hope is to be human.
Man looks at the horizon
Wondering what lies beyond,
And he longs to find out.
Man looks up the sky.
He wants to reach out and soar as high,
Maybe even further than his eyes can see.
Even when man looks into an abyss,
He wants to plumb the depths to discover
what lies deep down under.
To be human is to hope.
To expect for better and bigger things.
To dream of what might be if all pain and tears were to go away.
To long for a time when all expectations come to fruition.
To wish upon a star and invoke the heavens to make it come true.
This is the waiting and the hoping of Advent.
It point to the sacred night when we would feel a thrill of hope.
When our weary hearts will rejoice,
Together with the chorus of angels,
The joy and adoration of the shepherds,
When a glorious morn pierces and drives away
The gloom and darkness of the night.
Even when our hopes are merely whispered
Or when we just seem to be waiting for Godot;
There is something truly palpable in our hearts,
Felt in out hearts and soul
Of something wondrous and truly unexpected
About to burst forth into our lives.
Then the wolf shall be a guest of the lamb,
and the leopard shall lie down with the kid;
The calf and the young lion shall browse together,
with a little child to guide them.
The cow and the bear shall be neighbors,
together their young shall rest;
the lion shall eat hay like the ox.
The baby shall play by the cobra’s den,
and the child lay his hand on the adder’s lair.
There shall be no harm or ruin on all my holy mountain;
for the earth shall be filled with knowledge of the LORD,
as water covers the sea.
~ from today’s First Reading: Isaiah 11:6-9