Once upon a time, there was a little girl. And this little girl loved horses. (Don't most?) The fabled "horse bug" bit her when she was around seven years old, and it just never really quit.
Of course she asked for a horse, she wanted a horse--but her parents couldn't afford a horse, and that was that. So she wore the covers off her book on how to take care of horses, reading it and re-reading it. And always she hoped for a horse. She befriended horses that showed up in the cow barn (unfortunately they stayed only a few days) and then she made friends who had horses, and she got to ride one at long last. But only once or twice before her family moved. She still hoped for her own.
Eventually, three years after the initial bug bit, her grandpa offered to fund riding lessons every other week. She learned to walk and trot and eventually to canter. And still she hoped for her own horse. There were bad instructors and good ones, lost confidence and regained confidence, and as she got older the horses got younger and a bit wilder sometimes. There were more falls, more bumps and bruises, broken bones, drives home in tears because things didn't work out. And still she hoped for her own.
* * *
Once upon a time, there was a little boy. And this little boy decided he wanted to work with physically hurting people, to reach their spiritual hurts too. So when he grew up he went to college to study.
But when he got to college some huge issues came up. Issues so big that it seemed there was no way through. No way around. No way over. He tried every angle. He analyzed every opportunity. But things just didn't seem to be looking up. So he asked, and he shared:
"What keeps you going?"
The answer? Hope. Hope to make a difference. Hope to change someone's life. Hope to shine a light.
So he kept getting up every day, and he kept going to class, and he kept hoping for that difference. There were no answers, and there were no guarantees, and the dream was held off (it seemed) maybe forever. He waited on the answers, and he waited on the outcome, and there wasn't much promise of a good turnaround and a happy ending. Still he hoped to be that difference.
* * *
Two stories, two very different people, two very different situations. Or maybe, at the core, not so different after all.
What is "waiting"?
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