I hold my tarnished tin cup to the sky and watch it pour in – a measure of golden light.
It’s a slippery thing. At least for me. The ancients tell us to look forward with a perfect brightness of hope. But gather the unknowns, combined with the need to acquiesce, and my little cup of hope teeters in the wake of my questions. How long? What if we have to yield? What if our will is not His will?
Scripture says that our human ways often clash with the divine.