Starting point

Every night at dinner my 3-year-old starts the prayer. It is always the same: "Dear God, thank you for the dinner and thank you for the nice day and I hope ..." And here is the only part that ever changes "I hope I have a good time playing with Jane and Alison" or "I hope I have a good time at Noni and Grandpa's." Whatever it is she is "hoping" for is always something she has done that day. Her older siblings giggle at her incorrect use of hope, but I find myself thinking she isn't far off.

We talk about longing for or hoping for the Kingdom of God, but we are taught that the Kingdom of God is both the hope and promise of the future and a part of our lives today. The blessings in our lives offer us a real taste of the feast that is to come and we are thankful and even more hopeful. When we talk about hoping for the Kingdom of God we know we are standing in the midst of it, yet also hoping for the fullness of it. When we talk about hoping for the resurrection of Christ in our lives, we know we are a resurrection people, we thank God for the gift of Christ's death and resurrection and still our hearts hope for the fullness of that reality.

When Josie says, "I hope I have a good time playing with Jane and Alison," her young eyes see the play of that day. But her heart sees the love and friendships that promise many more days of play. Her hope is both a thanksgiving for today and a hope for all the friendship in the future.

Her use of hope has stopped me when I find myself hoping for something or wishing for things to be different. Josie has taught me that being hopeful is really being thankful. I have begun to realize that the things to hope for are those things that are already in our midst; those things for which we are truly thankful and can't wait for them to be with us always.

[Christina Zaker lives with her husband and four children in Chicago.]

COPYRIGHT 2007 National Catholic Reporter
COPYRIGHT 2008 Gale, Cengage Learning