The undulating waves of hope are mysterious and undependable. One moment, hope rises to the top, seemingly to defy all doubt and question. The next, by a mere word or careless deed, that hope falls, hits the ground, and lays gasping for any breath. There must be some kind of middle ground, some safe harbor to rest the weary heart. But when that same heart is filled with desire and yearning, it continues to climb desperately for the top again, no matter how many times it falls. Will the heart ever learn to leave hope behind? Is hope it's savior...or it's nemesis? I cannot say. But what I do know is:
"I will yet hope in God my Savior; I will yet praise Him more and more."
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