Hope did not arrive for me as something bright or immediate. It came slowly, almost imperceptibly, shaped by loss, memory, and faith. It did not erase grief, nor did it demand that I move past it. Instead, hope learned how to live alongside sorrow, breathing gently in the spaces where pain once felt overwhelming.Hope has taught me to trust what is unfolding, even when I do not yet recognize its shape. To believe that God is at work not only in what is restored, but in what is

It feels like everyone is tired right now. Not just physically, but soul-tired—the kind of exhaustion that comes from carrying too much for too long without a safe place to set it down. In 2026, this isn’t the exception; it’s the shared human experience. Grief, anxiety, illness, uncertainty, loneliness—these weights aren’t always visible, but they are felt deeply.