There’s this alarm set on my phone for 3:00 PM. It’s labeled “🙏🏽 - ********/Rhys.” I haven’t set it in over a year.
I think about it often, though.
For a while, that was my afternoon nudge to keep praying in one of the hardest stretches of my life. We’d been trying to have a kid for nearly a year with no success. If you haven’t figured it out, those ********s hide the name we would’ve chosen for a girl. Most of the time my alarm went off I didn’t feel like praying, cause it felt like it didn’t matter.
🌌🌌🌌
This sums up what 2018 was like for me. Then in March of 2019, we learned that Rhys was on his way to join the family that fall.
After that two year saga, I wondered what the next episode of life would hold. Sometimes I like to think of my life like a screenwriter... with all that just went down the past two seasons, maybe a quiet year wouldn’t be so bad? Maybe some trips? I’d been eager to start traveling again.
Turns out the script includes a dystopian pandemic.
👑
I saw a picture of the Queen’s image and quote projected over an empty Trafalgar Square saying “We’ll get through this. We’ll see each other again.” Someone commented, if you saw this picture a year ago, what would you think happened?
⛲️
I keep thinking about what the past two years have taught me and how it relates to right now.
Hope isn’t an emotion. Hope isn’t a rational path that convinces us how everything will work itself out. Hope is a choice.
3:00 PM
