Twelve minute run of the brain. I can’t find my copy of Mere Christianity. I wanted to read the chapter on hope. I have no hope of finding it in the next few minutes.
Often my hope is off somewhere sulking. Sometimes it is playing hide and seek. There are times when it is translucent as if I can see right through it to the hopeless state of things. An Eeyore moment has me saying short whining sentences, or answering a “How are you?” greeting with an answer like an essay question on a High School history exam.
So, now I have five minutes left to write about hope.
What I do know is everyone lives a thicker life with hope in the wings. Hope cheers us on to the next thing. Hope leads. Hope gently takes our hand. Hope see the possibilities.
I’m not a natural “hoper.” So when things get rough, or complicated, or senseless, I first sit in the mud, as it were, pointing at all the fractures.
My time is up. It’s 9:00 a.m. I found hope, it was in my breast pocket.
How is your relationship with hope these days?
Gerald the Writer 
It just took a little faith – for faith is the substance of things hoped for.
I wonder if Mere Christianity would be as succinct?
That would be a very short chapter.
Faith. Mustard seed type.
Yes.
For me, hope comes in the form of a quiet resolve as I endure a rough spot. Kind of like you mentioned, “Hope leads. Hope gently takes our hand.” I don’t need to struggle with the worry of how to mover forward.
Better than playing pin the tail on Eeyore eh Jasper? Thanks.