I’ve received an email reminding me that, like every year, preparation for another mission trip to Russia is beginning. I sip from my coffee mug printed with photos of landmarks from Kursk, with the seal of the district bannered with three flying nightingales, which may not be nightingales depending on who you ask, and I think of taking another trip. I first saw Russia’s birches and pines in 2011, my first mission trip, my first time leaving the country, and one of my first plane rides (definitely the longest to this day). Since that two-week trip, I’ve held on to a hope that I will return to Russia, albeit that hope is small now. I also hold a small hope that I will attend a spiritual semester at the Center for Action and Contemplation, founded by Richard Rohr. Another hope, perhaps larger: I will attend graduate school in Fall 2016.
All these hopes cost money, and money troubles make hope difficult. I know in my spiritual heart that money is no object in the spiritual world, that it can all be provided to me through some unseen, powerful mist, but my logical mind lacks the experience that proves this power. Yes, I’ve been provided for in the past innumerable times, and yes, I did go to Russia before. But so often I give all my hope to something I believe will happen, and the hope crumbles when the only thing to come to pass is my imagination.
Which brings me to wonder if I hope for the “right” things. Should I be selective? My brother and I sent out several letters a few years ago, asking for support for the both of us to go to Russia, asking also for funds to give to the children the mission benefitted. We received not one response. Apparently, it was “not meant to be.” But if we had been more aggressive, more pro-active, would the result have differed?
It is not enough to only hope. And sometimes, it is not enough to try, even our hardest. So, what do I hope for? What do I try for? I’m seeking guidance from my Higher Power to pursue the prospects fitting for me, those that will help me learn and grow and shine. I have little idea what they are.