(Note: the new blog tracking my reading project is at http://powercardchronicles.blogspot.com, if you're interested. I really don't imagine it's going to make for terribly exciting reading, though)
Today during Bible study, my boss said something like "Hope can't be bought at a grocery store."
Naturally, my initial thought, whispered to the person next to me, was, "But cupcakes can, and they're kind of the same thing." I was on my second cup of coffee at that point, by the way. I was thinking, hope makes you happy, cupcakes make you happy. Obviously, it was a silly metaphor not intended to be taken seriously. And so, of course, I started to take it seriously. Hope can't be a cupcake, I reasoned, because cupcakes taste great, but rot your teeth and ruin your insides, and they always leave you with a sugar crash when all is said and done.
To some, this would actually be a PERFECT description of the phenomenon known as hope; I, however, am a fairly hopeful person. I've been told that makes me an optimist, and while I disagree with that on a technicality or two, I acknowledge that "optimist" is a much simpler way to categorize my outlook on life while still being mostly true, so we'll go with it for now. The point is, I'm not one of those people who thinks hope rots your teeth and leaves you with a crash.
Well. Depending on what you're hoping for, of course.
Hang on a second, let me find my way back to my original train of thought.... (on my third cup of coffee now, in case you were curious)
Hope not at a grocery store, but cupcakes are, and that's kind of the same thing. No it's not, cupcakes feel good for awhile, then leave you ruined. So then I wanted to find a better metaphor for hope, something that was good and nourishing to your body, that leaves you better than you were before you ate it. And I came up with...broccoli with melted cheese. That was the first thing that popped into my head. I do like broccoli with melted cheese, but for some reason "Hope is broccoli with melted cheese to my soul" just didn't resonate with me.
It may be that hope is not actually like any particular foodstuff. Imagine that. (Perhaps hope is an invisible orange that you hold in your hands?)