Love is Our Hope

There is this part of me 
That, if it were not 
For the singing of the Wood Thrush, 
Would feel so hopeless. 

There is this part of me 
That, if it were not 
For the beauty of the yellow butterfly, 
Would find no joy. 

There is this part of me
That, if it were not for
The wild abandon of a puppy’s play,
Would sink deep into despair.

In this long, hard season
Of sickness
Of death
Of isolation
Of injustice and fear …
Where is our hope?
Where is our joy, our purpose, our anchor?

Our hope comes from each other.
Though we are apart,
We are woven together in the fabric of love.

Our hope comes from within,
From the heart of courage
That beats inside each living being.
From the essence of the Holy One, Knit into our spirits
Before we were imagined.

Our hope comes from the One
Who said that nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing in all creation
Can separate us from Love.

Love.
Love is our joy,
Our purpose,
Our anchor.

Love.
Love is our hope.

Beth A. Richardson serves as the director of prayer and worship life and Dean of The Upper Room Chapel. This poem first appeared on Beth's blog at betharichardson.com.