Wednesday, January 01, 2020

OLW 2020

This is the twelfth year I'm choosing One Little Word (OLW) to focus on for the new year. My previous choices have been LOOK in 2009, LOVED in 2010, TRUST in 2011, HEAL in 2012, SHALOM in 2013, GARDEN in 2014, UNAFRAID in 2015, LOVED in 2016, ROOTED in 2017, ENOUGH in 2018, and POSSIBILITY in 2019. Each year, I've written here about what I hope to see in the twelve months ahead, and each year I've ruefully admitted that I just keep on being me, with all the same stuff. I just hope I'm making some progress somewhere.

Here's last year's post on POSSIBILITY.  And here I reflected on the year as a resident of Haiti, and on why a better choice might have been FUTILITY or perhaps IMPOSSIBILITY or DESPAIR.

As I was thinking about those words, I focused especially on the last one. In French it's désespoir, the opposite of hope, un-hope. Hopelessness. I don't really want that to be my focus for the shiny new year, so unspoiled and fresh. So I decided to take a leap and go against the way things feel, choosing HOPE for 2020. Not because I'm full of hope or see lots of newness or solutions on the horizon to Haiti's political and economic impasse, but because I'm going to have to look outside myself, to seek hope where it's not obvious.
Last year in my OLW post, I quoted Henri Nouwen on hope. "I have found it very important in my own life," Nouwen writes, "to try to let go of my wishes and instead to live in hope. I am finding that when I choose to let go of my sometimes petty and superficial wishes and trust that my life is precious and meaningful in the eyes of God something really new, something beyond my own expectations begins to happen for me. To wait with openness and trust is an enormously radical attitude toward life. It is choosing to hope that something is happening for us that is far beyond our own imaginings. It is giving up control over our future and letting God define our life. It is living with the conviction that God molds us in love, holds us in tenderness, and moves us away from the sources of our fear."

I love the largeness of Nouwen's vision, but it's not easy to grasp on a daily basis. There are so many outcomes I hope for, and pray for, and don't see coming to fruition (in Haiti and in my own life). But to simply let go, and trust God with a more open-ended hope for His purposes to be achieved: that's more challenging. I tried it last year, and I try it every year, and I'm going to try it again this year.

And in case I feel like being less theological, HOPE is also the thing with feathers, as Emily Dickinson wrote:

"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.

On second thought, I'm not so sure that's any less theological. But at any rate, I've been thinking a lot lately about the things with feathers, as my interest in birds has grown. 2019 seemed pretty hopeless for the birds, as a study came out showing that the bird population of the U.S. and Canada decreased in the past 50 years by about 2.9 billion breeding adults, or 29%. Those are some sickening statistics, and yet if you follow that link to the study, you'll see that it immediately switches the focus from the sickening to the hopeful: "Bring Birds Back." There are so many things that can be done to improve the outlook for these "things with feathers" with which we share our planet. And the birds themselves, the hardy survivors, seem to have been doing some adjusting of their own: this article from last month's Discover magazine reports that all the species studied had decreased in size over the past 40 years (you've got to read about how they found this out - it is so fascinating). The scientists analyzing this data hypothesize that the reason for the smaller sizes is the increasingly warm temperatures in the birds' habitats.

What's to be learned from this, things with feathers? Anything that can help me be more hopeful in this coming year, in spite of obstacles and circumstances beyond my control? I'll think about it.

Ultimately, though, I don't believe having hope is about me; I think it's about God working in me. In Romans 15:13, Paul writes: "May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope." It's by looking outside myself, by turning to God, that I can have hope this year.

Margaret is hosting a roundup of the OLWs chosen by my Spiritual Journey Thursday pals. Here's a list at Two Writing Teachers of contributors' choices. What about you? What's your OLW for 2020?

11 comments:

Amy Hutchisson said...

Awesome post for an excellent word. HOPE was my word for 2016, my very first One Word year, and it was definitely a good choice for me. I hereby bequeath to you the Facebook Header I created that year. Feel free to do with it what you will. https://tinyurl.com/hopeheader

Ruth said...

Thanks so much, Amy!

Linda Mitchell said...

An outstanding word...and the idea of giving up on wishes to live in hope. That takes strength. I hope I can gain some from your work with hope this year. Happy New Year!

Margaret Simon said...

Hope is really all we have. Once a close friend's daughter was in a terrible car accident. There was little chance of survival. My father told me that all we could do was hope. Well, hope pulled her through, gave her the strength to fight her way back. Hope can be a powerful thing. After the hurricane in Haiti years ago (can't remember the year), I did a t-shirt fundraiser. The t-shirts said "Hope for Haiti." We raised money for Doctors without Borders. I wish now I could remember the amount we raised. It's not really the point, though. There is always hope. I like how you included the birds in your post. In the last year, we've done a number of things in our yard to attract birds and on Christmas Day, two bluebirds were scouting at our bluebird house. It's been up for years and never housed a bluebird. I took it as a sign. Hope!

Ruth said...

Margaret, thank you for your work for Haiti!

Irene Latham said...

Ruth, you just keep being you, and that's a beautiful thing! I love that you were brave enough to go against your feelings -- being hope-FULL instead of hopeless... I do think it's a choice. And really it's our expectations that fail us so often, not the person or the situation itself. I'm always amazed when I really stop to consider what expectations I've attached to a thing... what would happen if I just shed those and let whatever happens be a gift? Because I'm sure it would be a gift then... hoping you enjoy hope all year long! xo

Carol Varsalona said...

Ruth, hope is such a beautiful word, especially for you in your situation. I really enjoyed hearing how you are turning your focus to outside your self and into the eyes of the Lord. He is the one who gave me hope when I was diagnosed with non-Hodgkins Lymphoma in 2003 and He was the one who stayed by me in the darkest hours of the night. We need to fight for the right to hope and find blessed moments. I know that your word will help you through dark spots and shine a light when you need one. Hope served me well and I wish it will bring you many ways to brighten your pathway. I just posted my blog and inside it is a link to my digitals on hope. Peace and good tidings to you for a beautiful start to the new year.

Fran Haley said...

I think that, next to love and gratitude, hope is one of the most transformative words there is. The Dickinson poem has long been a favorite of mine ... yes, I believe in living in hope each day. It is a lifeline. I am also intrigued by your previous choice of Shalom. Makes me want to meditate on that awhile. Happy New Year to you!

Ramona said...

Ruth, thanks for this post about hope. I love the quotes you share, always meaningful and thoughtful. These words spoke to me today: "To wait with openness and trust is an enormously radical attitude toward life. It is choosing to hope that something is happening for us that is far beyond our own imaginings. It is giving up control over our future and letting God define our life." Giving up control and letting God, something I don't do enough. Here's to a better year for you and Haiti.

Karen Eastlund said...

Ruth: Thanks for this honest and thoughtful post. I appreciate every portion of it, but this year especially the emphasis on birds. I received two birdfeeders and a sack of various seeds this year, and I hope to see some new avian friends in my yard. Just yesterday I went looking for sandhill cranes, which apparently visit NJ not far from me. I will be delighted if I actually see them, but so far no luck. I did see a bald eagle. They are back in our area. That is one hope that has come true. You have written about situations that sound hopeless, and yet you yourself have responded with hope, sending lessons to your students since you cannot gather in school, posting faithfully on Fridays for an entire year. I rejoice in these signs of hope, and pray for many more in the year to come. Sometimes children bring me hope. They see the world with such fresh and innocent eyes. Today, while taking garbage to the dumpster, I walked past some children on the playground at our church. I did not know them, though I knew their teacher. We exchanged a few greetings and stories about Christmas, then one little girl said, "You look so cute doing that." I had to laugh. Leave it to a child to bring a smile while on garbage duty. So... my hope is for Haiti, for you, for the children, and for the year ahead.

Donna Smith said...

A beautiful word, and your association to it is not unlike my OLW, Faith. We have to look beyond ourselves and try to find the places and people to inspire hope. Thank you for this post today. It is another reminder of being steadfast, present and looking forward. Sweet hope in 2020 to you!