Feathers and Fur

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

Perhaps I should have listened to my superstitious gut. I should not have put the collage of photos on Facebook yesterday. Yes, he was getting better (I thought) and it was safe to share his journey.

I have learned over the years that often when it seems like they're getting better, it's more like a last ditch effort to survive. This morning when I went to check on him as I have for the past week and a half, he was almost stiff, eyes closed, as if he had passed in his sleep. Thank goodness for small comforts. 

Sometimes I say that I'm all cried out. I have cried so much over many lost lives, many unfair, unjust, and just plain sad things that I wonder if I have anything left in my heart at all; perpetual triggers and endless chances to grow through disappointment.

Hope is what carries me through the tough times. Faith teaches me how to access it, it's the branch for the little bird to sit on. Love is in the fluffy fur of every creature I touch and it's the spring of all that is good and worthy. 

Rest well, little one.

13 So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three;

but the greatest of these is love.

1 Corinthians 13:13

God does not require us to achieve any of the good tasks that humanity must pursue.

What God requires of us is that we never stop trying.

Bayard Ruskin