What absolute sorrow and heartbreak. It's hanging there in every verse, as deep as the waters as they crept over the mountains. You can imagine watching this from the outside, watching as the floods crept higher and higher, slowing devouring the fields and the hills and the mountains until there was nothing left, this monster eating the world with an insatiable appetite, devastating life and all that were living it. It's like being in a room with the lights off and watching someone slowly close the door, so that shaft of light grows more narrow by the second until there's just a sliver, and then boom... gone.
These days, the front pages give us this same feeling. The shooting in Chicago on the holiday is heartbreaking, to read about those people, those families, where hope vanished in a flash. Violence claims so many lives, you can almost feel hope slipping through your fingers and you wonder if its another monster, creeping across the hills and up the mountains, devouring the world.
But look -- there on the waves, tossing to and fro, there's life! There's still hope, because all is not lost -- one little ark, a bathtub in the ocean, filled to the brim with life and promise of a tomorrow, for all has not been lost. In a giant storm, there's one small grain, floating forward, hanging on until it can be planted back into the ground. Hope is still there in the midst of the flood, and it's just waiting until it can blossom once more.
There's hope, too, in the world today, even if you have to search among the waves. There's a grain, a seed, waiting to be planted, to blossom once more. Friends -- look for the hope. I promise it is there, even if you have to search behind every wave, behind every shadow threatening to devour. Hope will not be lost to the depths. The sun will rise tomorrow, and that little grain of hope will still be riding the waves, waiting, watching. Hope lives on!
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