Is humanity losing hope?


hopeWe’ve all been there. Hit the bottom of the barrel, feeling like the whole world is conspiring against you and not knowing where to turn.

But, something gnaws away at us, makes us re-evaluate situations, look at things from different perspectives and suddenly we find ourselves slowly, but surely climbing (clinging on for all our worth) back up from the depths of despair.

And that something?

Hope.

Sitting listening to the sermon in church this morning, something the Bishop said made me think.  He said that right now, here, in the 21st century people were losing (or had lost) hope.

And that got me thinking.

Really?

Have you lost hope?

I know I haven’t. I still have hopes and dreams unfulfilled – and I have that little spark inside me that makes me believe that anything in this life is possible.

Although on a bigger scale it does, at times, feel that the world is in need of a miracle.  Everywhere you look there seems to be nothing but despair, death and destruction.

So what do we do?

Do we simply think it’s not my problem and turn a blind eye? Try to help everyone, but end up helping no one and having the tables turned on us so we’re the bad guys? Think that whatever you try to do won’t make a difference so you don’t even bother trying?

Or have we, as the Bishop said simply just lost hope and faith in humanity?

Surely, that would be the worst thing we could possibly do. If we don’t have hope, we have no way of making the world a better place for our children and future generations.

There’s a beautiful poem by Emily Dickinson – which was one of my Friday poems a few years ago.  It is called “Hope is the thing with feathers” and it tells us that however bad things get, hope is always there for us. Enjoy 😉

‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—

And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—
And sore must be the storm—
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm—

I’ve heard it in the chillest land—
And on the strangest Sea—
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb—of Me.

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