Hope. There have been moments in my life that I've had no hope at all. I just wanted to give up and throw in the towel. Life sucked. I didn't see it ever getting any better.
It felt like I was in a boxing match with life and it was beating the shit out of me. I kept waiting for the referee to ring the bell to stop the fight before life finally killed me, but the ref was no where to be found.
I wanted to lay there and just take the beating, since I had no hope of things ever changing. I didn't believe I deserved any better than what I was getting.
Maybe I had talked smack about life before the match and he heard about it. Maybe he was pissed at me for being ungrateful for the chances he'd given me in the past. Maybe he decided that this time, he was either going to beat some sense into me, or kill me trying.
Maybe this time, he was going to bring me to my knees and make me see that things could only go up from here.
I was at my lowest. I wanted to die. I waited for life to take the final blow. I was ready. I closed my eyes and prepared myself. All hope was lost. I had nothing to keep fighting for. I braced myself for the punch.
But he didn't do it. He leaned down and kissed my forehead and whispered "Don't give up..keep fighting..there's still hope left."
I left the ring bruised and battered. I could barely stand. I could hardly function. I walked outside and felt the sun shining on my face. The warm, soothing sun. Oh, how I had missed that sun.
Suddenly, I could feel my heart beating again. I could feel it trying to put the shattered pieces back together.
Maybe there was hope left for me after all.