Every night when I go to bed I go with the hope that tomorrow will be the day that I will feel better and every morning I wake up feeling foolish for having that hope. But I feel that I must have hope otherwise what else is there? If I don’t have hope I will let chronic illness beat me and I hate to be beaten. I never want to give in.
I have so many plans and goals I want to achieve. But the reality is that they may never be within my reach. I have made a point of setting myself realistic goals, Is it wrong to have hopes and dreams? Or am I just setting myself up for a fall?
Is hope the thief of joy?
I even have hope that I will be well enough to clean and tidy the whole house and make it sparkling, play on the floor with my boys, make my husband his tea. I have hope for the small things in life because they are the most important.