Another Message About Poop

I'm at the gym at 5:30 AM, and I think to myself:  "I'm officially insane.  What can come of this?"

Each machine has little TVs, so I start watching this PBS interview about families in New Orleans who, 5 years after Hurricane Katrina, are still trying to rebuild their lives.

A woman starts describing the festival and street parade they have in the neighborhood. She tells the interviewer:  "The little girls carry dolls to signify that they are pregnant with hope and will give birth to greatness."

And the interviewer says:  "Is this area fertile with hope?"
The mother: "Yes, but we need some fertilizer."
Interviewer:  "Fertilizer?"
The mother:  "Yes, and they keep giving us manure.  But you know what manure is?  It's fertilizer for our hope!"

I thought about this family joking and laughing and rebuilding their lives.  They have taken the manure of disaster and made it fertilizer for hope.

Maybe hope requires a little fertilizer to grow.  Maybe all good things do.  When discouragement comes, I want to respond like this amazing woman. 

Can I let the manure of the day--of my life-- nourish my hope instead of embittering and depressing me?  The woman on TV was strong and sure.  She wasn't going to waste the suffering.  She was going to let it fertilize her life.