Last night I watched a dear loved one singing. Sitting cross-legged on a small stage with four others, all wearing white, some with instruments, all engaged in a devotional form of singing called kirtan. This dear one has experienced much suffering over the past few years so it was with great joy that I now listened to her sweet singing.  And as I did so, another visitor sprang into my heart – hope.

The words I want to write right now are, “I wish I could say I loved all my feelings equally, but I must confess to feeling a lot more comfortable with faith than hope.” A tongue-in-cheek reference to what we mothers say about our children. And then I want to launch into how these two are different for me. However, as I am also a bit obsessed with precision around language, I had to verify, was hope even a feeling or was it a belief? Was faith? Are they even in the same category?

Search engine headlines and my favorite dictionary offered an equal measure of clues and confusion. Faith was described as a noun likened to trust while hope was described as a verb likened to want. There are several reasons why they are good for us, by the way, so let me encourage you to develop a healthy relationship with each. But for today’s purposes, I am calling them feelings.

First Faith. Funny to me that faith feels more solid. Funny as my faith is based on so many things that I can’t “prove” but that I’ve wrestled with and know to be true in my soul. How did the universe come to be? Why are we here? What are we meant to do? Is this earthly experience all or part of our lives? Answers continue to evolve as I never tire of the questions. But I trust in my own living faith system, forged from the madness and the miracles that have been part of life so far.

Now Hope. Hope feels enchanting, inviting, golden. Promising all the good things we wish for ourselves, others, and the world. And yet it’s more ephemeral to me than faith. A little riskier. More human or earthly. Full of wonder and beauty, like a baby sea turtle, hope is our longing to see its safe passage to a long nautical future, knowing there’s also the possibility for peril (like seeing a dear loved one singing kirtan while just a few weeks ago I saw so many others’ dear loved ones memorialized on black posters).

Maybe Hope’s visit is telling me it’s time to work on our relationship, time for me to appreciate her unique beauty and stop comparing her to Faith. So let me start to see you, Hope, for what you are. And to embrace you, even just for a little while.

Here’s to hugging your hope today and this week!