In Others' Words
The Gates of Hope
Our mission is to plant ourselves
at the gates of Hope --
Not the prudent gates of Optimism,
Which are somewhat narrower.
Not the stalwart, boring gates of
Nor the strident gates of
Which creak on shrill and angry hinges
(People cannot hear us there;
they cannot pass through)
Nor the cheerful, flimsy garden gate of
"Everything is gonna' be all right."
But a different, sometimes lonely place,
The place of truth-telling,
About your own soul first of all
and its condition.
The place of resistance and defiance,
The piece of ground
from which you see the world
Both as it is and as it could be
As it will be; The place from which
you glimpse not only struggle,
But the joy of the struggle.
And we stand there,
beckoning and calling,
Telling people what we are seeing
Asking people what they see.
—Victoria Safford, Minister, White Bear Unitarian Universalist Church, Mahtomedi, MN
Never lose hope, my
dear heart. Miracles dwell in the invisible.
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.
— Emily Dickenson
It roots deepest
in the places
— Clarissa Pinkola Estes
“The Ultimate Faith”