What does hope feel like anyway?

waiting to see. amy

The word ‘restless’ came to me as I struck a match to light my oil lamp this morning. 
Restless…seeking, yearning, wanting; “unable to relax due to anxiety or boredom,” according to Oxford dictionary. 
Restless indicates movement of some sort…tossing and turning, pacing, annoyance of uncontrollable restless-leg syndrome. 

I hear a restlessness rising in the community’s desire to “re-open,” to get out, to hug a friend or family we’ve only seen imaged on a screen. There’s a restlessness in the voices placing blame here and there, or in discrimination against innocent people…restlessness displaced due to feeling a lack of control. Restlessness soaks cheeks in tears shed in grief, desperation and confession.

Contemplating my restlessness I realized this is what hope feels like. We are restless in our lack, our wanting…to be together, for better days, for stillness from hectic movement, for compassion in the world. Sometimes our restlessness is louder than others. It can consume our thoughts with what is not. Or, we can draw deeper from the well and listen for echoes of what the restlessness hopes for…what is desired to be felt or known or experienced 

Hope that is seen is not hope.
For who hopes for what is seen?
But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.
Romans 8:25

I did not expect to find hope in my restlessness today. I will patiently wait for what I hope for, that over which I have no control. And I shall pray to turn my restlessness into action for that which I hope for today, and, what I hope for once we have freedom of movement again. 
Are you restless? If so, I wonder what hope you might discover hidden in it, calling to you to be patient, or calling you to action?

 With hope to discover in this time that we truly are in this together, today and always… 

Thou hast made us for thyself, O Lord
And our heart is restless until it finds its rest in thee.
Augustine of Hippo (4th century)