Hope is the thing with feathers

Evan and I can't keep Christmas secrets from each other very well.  He pulled out a little box last night.  I asked him if I could open it early so I could wear it this week before Christmas.  He was surprise I knew it was jewelry, but seriously what else could be in a pretty little box? I opened it up and and he had found a little blue bird on a leafy twig.  It is daintily beautiful.  The necklace is perfect reminder for where we are at in the adoption process.  We are simply hopeful.  It reminded me of my favorite poem by Emily Dickinson: 

             

          Hope     

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

These verses have also kept my heart going.  

Numbers 3:19-25

I remember my affliction and my wandering,
   the bitterness and the gall.
²⁰ I well remember them,
   and my soul is downcast within me.
²¹ Yet this I call to mind
   and therefore I have hope:

 ²² Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed,
   for his compassions never fail.
²³ They are new every morning;
   great is your faithfulness.
²⁴ I say to myself, “The LORD is my portion;
   therefore I will wait for him.”

 ²⁵ The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him,
   to the one who seeks him;