Your bad experiences stop you from trying again.

When I say the word ‘hope’ to you, what image comes to mind? Light at the end of a dark tunnel? Green shoots pushing through dark soil? An outstretched hand?

Usually when people use the #nofilterneeded it’s because the picture is perfect without any enhancement.

This past year has been a time of learning new skills, getting used to staring at a screen or looking down a camera lens. It has felt like launching our talks, prayers, thoughts, even ourselves, into an empty void.

A boost. Most days I feel like Mr Smallwood in Bleak House who tells his daughter repeatedly, ‘shake me up Judy’. Most days it seems that my energy connection has been pulled out. Most days I need back-up.

I’m reading Matt Haig’s The Midnight Library at the minute and there’s one phrase that has stuck with me: the main character always holds onto or returns to her ‘root self’.

As the flurry of preparing for Mother’s Day rose and subsided, I stopped to think about it; what gift can be bought for someone who has lived, sacrificed for and defended us our whole life?

For many years now, I’ve been reassured by the Bible story of Daniel’s friends, Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego. They had an incredibly tough time, getting thrown into a blazing furnace. Before that happened, they said that they believed God would rescue them but even if he does not they would still believe. That even if he does not kind of belief has kept me going through many hard times.

Turns out just fine.

I don’t know about you, but I set out every day expecting things to go wrong. And then I can say ‘I knew that would happen’ or ‘of course’ or, worst of all, ‘I told you so.’

How Eeyore of me.