It's spring and in episodes 117-120 we are talking about hope. What is it? How do we talk about this intangible thing? Can it be toxic? We don't have the answers, but we lean into the conversation.

Gathering Word:

“Hope” is the thing with feathers by Emily Dickinson

“Hope” is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul - And sings the tune without the words - And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard - And sore must be the storm - That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land - And on the strangest Sea - Yet - never - in Extremity, It asked a crumb - of me.

It's spring and in episodes 117-120 we are talking about hope. What is it? How do we talk about this intangible thing? Can it be toxic? We don't have the answers, but we lean into the conversation.

Gathering Word:

“Hope” is the thing with feathers by Emily Dickinson

“Hope” is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul - And sings the tune without the words - And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard - And sore must be the storm - That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land - And on the strangest Sea - Yet - never - in Extremity, It asked a crumb - of me.

Episodes 113-116 move us from fall to winter at winter solstice. How do we hold onto hope in a dark season? How do we actively wait in the long dark night?

Gathering Word

Excerpt from It Will be Okay by Lysa TerKeurst

One morning, the Farmer came into the shed, as He had on many days.

“Little Seed,” He said as He placed him in His hand, “I have a wonderful plan for you. I have waited for just the right time, and today is the day!”

Oh no, please no! I don’t want to go!thought Little Seed.

The Farmer went outside and knelt down. He pushed Little Seed under the ground, into the dirt, and down to a deep, dark, messy place.

“Now, Little Seed, this is going to be different and it might seem scary, but it will be okay. You can trust Me,” said the Farmer.

Little Seed wished he were inside the cozy packet on the rickety shelf in the Farmer’s dusty shed.

“I want to trust, even when I can’t see. But how in the world is this good for me?”

“Little Seed, come back!” cried Little Fox when he saw the Farmer take his friend away. “Where are you, Little Seed?”

He looked in the front of the shed and behind the shed, but . . .Little Seed was not there.

He looked on top of the tractor and under the tractor, but . . .Little Seed was not there either.

He looked in the horse’s stall, the pig’s pen, and even in the Farmer’s boot, but . . .Little Seed was not there either.

Now Little Fox was really worried. “Little Seed?”he shouted

“I’m here, I’m here,way down in the dirt.

I’m scared and I’m lonely, but I’m not hurt,”

came Little Seed’s muffled voice right below him.

Now Little Fox was really worried. “Little Seed?”he shouted.”

Little Fox thought hard for something to say or something to do that would help his friend not be scared. But he was afraid too.

“It’s different and scary to be someplace new . . . but it will be okay, Little Seed.”

Little Seed was not so sure. And neither was Little Fox.

But the Farmer was good, and the Farmer was kind, and the Farmer was always watching over them.Even when they didn’t know it.”