You can’t touch hope.
You can touch the product of it.
Or what symbolizes hope for you.
Perhaps what or who reminds you that hope lives,
H-O-P-E itself is not a tangible object.
You can’t purchase hope.
You can buy the written word.
Or tattoo it on your forehead,
Or buy relief from situations that drain hope from you.
H-O-P-E itself though, cannot be purchased.
You can’t treat hope like a pet.
You can’t ensure it eats the best food.
Or train hope to do tricks or check the mail.
Or treat it to a pet spa day or vaccinate it.
H-O-P-E isn’t to be coddled or always sail calm seas.
You exercise hope to make it stronger.
Hope has to be challenged and refined in fire.
Or scarred from spiritual battles.
Or be rooted deep enough to withstand life’s storms,
H-O-P-E is a muscle.
Exercise it well.