Hope Now

“The grace of God means something like: Here is your life. You might never have been, but you are because the party wouldn't have been complete without you. Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don't be afraid. I am with you. Nothing can ever separate us. It's for you I created the universe. I love you. There's only one catch. Like any other gift, the gift of grace can be yours only if you'll reach out and take it. Maybe being able to reach out and take it is a gift too.”

― Frederick Buechner

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Dear Kate,

"Aim at heaven and you will get earth thrown in. Aim at earth and you get neither."

It means one who acknowledges no transcendence isn't going to do too good a job living in the immanent.  Or to put it even more simply, one who sees no hope, no lasting promise in one's tomorrow isn't gonna have much fun living today.  Even when it's a Friday.  For the threat of Monday, like death, would always render despair imminent and the heart despondent.  TGIF, we say.  Should I then curse Him by Monday?

The kind of life you are living, what is so promising about it?  Young people, our children, what does the world have to offer them?  What do they have to look forward to?  Yes, we should break down the stigma of mental illness and addiction, but do we love our children enough to honestly ask ourselves: Why are we so sad?  Why do they seem to become even sadder than we are?  The real big pandemics are yet to come: hopelessness shall sweep even the most resourceful nations to expose their unresourcefulness, big bank accounts short on wonder and delight.  Generous people are wealthy people, but not necessarily the other way around.

And how about religion, beliefs that promise abundance and generosity, to ignite in us faith, hope and love?  Mostly we are just happy that God didn't forsake us like He did those poor folks we read about in the news.  We say we are thankful.  We pray there is no threat in our tomorrow to cause us to thank Him less.  Otherwise, a Sunday is a Sunday and a Monday is, dammit, a Monday.  God will provide, we sing into thin air our faint trust.

You are in medicine and I am in housing, for a career maybe but also for hope, I hope.  You know full well no amount of money and research can ever solve the "health care crisis," and I know peace often doesn't dwell in even the most beautiful homes, safe neighborhoods.  Again, Why?

Yours, Alex