Oh, Charleston. Beautiful, historic Charleston. A city that restored herself after the unspeakable evils of slavery, after war, after earthquakes, after hurricanes.
Charleston restored herself first for her own citizens and, then remarkably, for the world. She became an international destination for historians, for architecture and culture buffs, for scholars, for gardeners, for foodies, for lovers.
I wrote about Charleston a few years ago, and it remains one of this blog's most popular posts. Charleston has been a retreat for the Mister and me as well as a place our children have loved to visit.
The home of the Medical University of South Carolina, Charleston has even served as a place of healing for our family when Little had eye surgery this past fall. My heart breaks for Charleston.
Each deserves to be remembered with hope, for the hope that was within each of them.
As I scanned the news this morning, these AP images spoke to me of the hope that we cannot abandon, no matter how frayed humankind appears in this world at this time.
As I wrote in my last post, my heart hurts over several loved ones, yet I hope. I prefer the Spanish verb for hope, which is esperar; its translation eliminates the wishfulness often associated with hope. Rather Espero translates "I hope" to mean "I expect," or "I wait." And so, I hope. I wait expectantly.
Because as broken as I am, as we all are, we can have hope in the One who can mend, who can heal. Will this be accomplished over the whole earth in my lifetime? Probably not. Will it be accomplished? Most assuredly so. In the meantime, act with kindness, show grace, forgive, and hope.
Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint. (Isaiah 40:31)