on hope.

I have been back from the Dominican Republic for more than a month.

I desperately miss it.

I would I could express how much my heart ached while I was there; I wish I could tell you the stories of Damairus, of Angel, and of Israel. I wish I could show you how much they hurt.

Tomorrow I leave to go home for Easter break. I am so spoiled. I am so spoiled to be able to wake up in a warm house, to eat until I am full, and to celebrate with pagan gifts. How can I have all of this when they have so little? How can I have all of this and miss the hope that they so easily understand?

Hope.

Hope is the essence of Easter. Hope is the thing that spurs dreams, that makes love possible, and that keeps my faith alive. Damarius had such a deep understanding of the hope of her salvation-- hope that has kept her family alive, helped her during her illness, and will continue to spur her toward completeness.

Where is my hope? Do my luxaries take away from feeling hope of great things, of feeling the hope and joy and intrigue of my salvation?

"Almighty God, we beseech thee graciously to behold this thy family, for which our Lord Jesus Christ was contented to be betrayed, and given up into the hands of sinners, and to suffer death upon the crossl who now liveth and reigneth with thee and Holy Ghost ever, one God, world without end. Amen."

Let this give us hope.