At first I was a little appalled. I have never heard her say such a thing!

But then I listened.
And I learned, like you do when you listen.

What she’s over is “hope” as in this far-off in the future, something-good-might-happen-one-day thing.Because those of us who have been clinging to that kind of hope are honestly really tired right now.

Currently, things are terrifically hard in Haiti. Almost every single day, we hear more gut-wrenching stories. Acute hunger is at its peak, violence is rampant, and so many more awful things are happening that we don’t need to rehash here.

But here’s the other quite confusing thing. Almost every single day, we also hear more beautiful stories about communities coming together to care for one another, God providing, and our staff and makers stepping up as incredible leaders. And so many other things that it would be impossible to rehash them all here.

So now I get what MK is saying. And here’s where I’m at. My hope isn’t so much in the future as it is in what is also happening right now. Of course not in the tremendously difficult stuff. But in the confusingly beautiful stuff.

I forget this often, as I get caught up in far-off sales goals and all the things we have yet to accomplish as a company, but every once in a while I remember: our mission isn’t some far-off in the future, might-happen-one-day thing either.

It is happening every single day.

Every. Single. Day. Moms and dads are spending fairly earned dollars on caring for their families. Dollars that wouldn’t otherwise be circulating in their economy if it wasn’t for this tiny international misfit company with a funny name that refuses to give up.

Every single day- and this is what we don’t see on the news- neighbors are making sure everyone eats, people are finding unbelievably creative solutions to survive, and joy is mysteriously still creeping in to daily interactions.

So no, my hope for Haiti is not for this far-off-in-the-future version of it. My hope is in the Haiti that I know exists beyond the heartbreak, right now in this very moment.

So I guess in a way, I’m giving up on hope too. Hope in the old sense that I understood it: I’m trading in far-off-in-the-future-hope for blindingly-confusing-hope-that-somehow-exists-right now.