Hope Deferred Quotes

A Pause of Thought I looked for that which is not, nor can be, And hope deferred made my heart sick in truth But years must pass before a hope of youth Is resigned utterly. I watched and waited with a steadfast will: And though the object seemed to flee away That I so longed for, ever day by day I watched and waited still. Sometimes I said: This thing shall be no more; My expectation wearies and shall cease; I will resign it now and be at peace: Yet never gave it o'er. Sometimes I said: It is an empty name I long for; to a name why should I give The peace of all the days I have to live?-- Yet gave it all the same. Alas, thou foolish one! alike unfit For healthy joy and salutary pain: Thou knowest the chase useless, and again Turnest to follow it.

I think perhaps we want a more conscious life. We're tired of drudging and sleeping and dying. We're tired of seeing just a few people able to be individualists. We're tired of always deferring hope till the next generation. We're tired of hearing politicians and priests and cautious reformers... coax us, 'Be calm! Be patient! Wait! We have the plans for a Utopia already made; just wiser than you.' For ten thousand years they've said that. We want our Utopia now — and we're going to try our hands at it.

Hope isn't destiny. Left passive its nothing more than disappointment deferred

I heard the universe as an oratorio sung by a master choir of stars, accompanied by the orchestra of the planets and the percussion of satellites and moons. The aria they performed was a song to break the heart, full of tragic dissonance and deferred hope, and yet somewhere beneath it all was a piercing refrain of glory, glory, glory. And I sensed that not only the grand movements of the cosmos, but everything that had happened in my life, was a part of that song. Even the hurts that seemed most senseless, the mistakes I would have done anything to erase--nothing could make those things good, but good could still come out of them all the same, and in the end the oratorio would be no less beautiful for it.

I don't say Valancy deliberately murdered these lovers as she outgrew them. One simply faded away as another came. Things are very convenient in this respect in Blue Castles.

Honest Winter, snow-clad, and with the frosted beard, I can welcome not uncordially; But that long deferment of the calendar's promise, that weeping gloom of March and April, that bitter blast outraging the honour of May how often has it robbed me of heart and hope?

There is another physical law that teases me, too: the Doppler Effect. The sound of anything coming at you- a train, say, or the future- has a higher pitch than the sound of the same thing going away. If you have perfect pitch and a head for mathematics you can compute the speed of the object by the interval between its arriving and departing sounds. I have neither perfect pitch nor a head for mathematics, and anyway who wants to compute the speed of history? Like all falling bodies, it constantly accelerates. But I would like to hear your life as you heard it, coming at you, instead of hearing it as I do, a somber sound of expectations reduced, desires blunted, hopes deferred or abandoned, chances lost, defeats accepted, griefs borne.

Do you know where Blue is? Can you get him for me? Please?" "Frederick," Bliss said. "Do you always bring a sword to a pool party? You are familiar with the concept of rust, I hope." "I - yes, of course," Freddie said, looking as if he wasn't sure whom to answer first, but deferring to the fairy out of respect for his magical elders. "I have it in case there's trouble, and I need to decapitate Fel - er, someone. Anyone, rather. Anyone in need of decapitation." "Frederick, that is very disturbing," Bliss said. "I do hope you're joking." "Where's Blue?" Mira shouted.

He was begining to defer his problems in the hope that death would resolve them .

But spring in England is like a prolonged adolescence, stumbling, sweet and slow, a thing of infinitesimal shades, false starts, expectations, deferred hopes, and final showers of glory.

I was walking along one day and smacked into this wall called hope deferred and depression and...grief. And it wouldn't budge. After some time, I realized this darkness I'd found myself in was called grief. I'd been through so much trauma, everything about me- including my body, emotions and soul, was shutting down and going into preservation mode. I entered a season where the battle caught up with me and I realized just how badly I'd been beaten and torn up, inside and out.

and sometimes this daily disappointment, this constant agony of hope deferred, would bring me to my knees by that door begging her to open to me, crying to her in every term of passionate endearment and persuasion that tortured heart of man could think to use.

The human understanding is no dry light, but receives infusion from the will and affections; whence proceeds sciences which may be called "sciences as one would." For what a man had rather were true he more readily believes. Therefore he rejects difficult things from impatience of research; sober things, because they narrow hope; the deeper things of nature, from supersition; the light of experience, from arrogrance and pride; things not commonly believed, out of deference to the opinion of the vulgar. Numberless in short are the ways, and sometimes imperceptible, in which the affections color and infect the understanding. 1620 - Francis Bacon

God, who in the beginning was the creator, appears in the end as revenger and rewarder. Deference to such a God admittedly can produce virtuous actions; however, because fear of punishment or hope for reward are their motive, these actions will not be purely moral; on the contrary, the inner essence of such virtue will amount to prudent and carefully calculating egoism.

I think perhaps we want a more conscientious life. We're tired of drudging and sleeping and dying. We're tired of always deferring hope to the next generation. We're tired of hearing the politicians and priests and cautious reformers (and the husbands!) coax us, 'Be calm! Be patient! Wait! We have plans for a Utopia already made; just give us a bit more time and we'll produce it; trust us; we're wiser than you.' For ten thousand years they've said that. We want our Utopia now - and we're going to try our hands at it. All we want is - everything for all of us! For every housewife and every longshoreman and every Hindu nationalist and every teacher. We want everything. We sha'n't get it. So we sha'n't ever be content -

Hope deferred makes the heart sick.” It’s not a promise but a warning. Desire realized is a tree of life, and the tree of life is only found in Genesis, Proverbs and Revelation. Genesis is what was, Proverbs is what is, and Revelation is what will be.

It would have been easy to shut her eyes and let him kiss her. To have the choice taken from her in one heated, passive moment, with nothing for her to do but comply. But he was asking for more than her artless submission. Not deference, not docility, but...defiance. 'I want you to choose me,' he said, 'well and truly choose me of your own accord. I don't want you to wait at the crossroads in the hopes that I will force the choice upon you.

He speaks of himself as of another. Himself he devises too for company. Leave it at that. Confusion too is company up to a point. Better hope deferred than none. Up to a point. Till the heart starts to sicken. Company too up to a point. Better a sick heart than none. Till it starts to break. So speaking of himself he concludes for the time being, For the time being leave it at that.

There, in the horseshoe drive, Kelly, gullible and mortal Kelly, awaits an explanation from a bedraggled immortal. The Minotaur accepts this temporary blessing for all it is worth. There are few things that he knows, these among them: that is is inevitable, even necessary, for a creature half man and half bull to walk the face of the earth; that in the numbing span of eternity even the most monstrous among us needs love; that the minutiae of life sometimes defer to folly; that even in the most tedious unending life there comes, occasionally, hope. One simply has to wait and be ready.

I would like to hear your life as you heard it, coming at you, instead of hearing it as I do, a sober sound of expectations reduced, desires blunted, hopes deferred or abandoned, chances lost, defeats accepted, griefs borne. I don't find your life uninteresting, as Rodman does. I would like to hear it as it sounded while it was passing. Having no future of my own, why shouldn't I look forward to yours.

I’m still here. The doubt, the fear, the heartbreak, the depression, the anxiety, the insecurity: It didn’t win. The people who hurt me and let me down: They didn’t win. The disappointment and the failure, and the hopes and deferred dreams: Nope. They didn’t win either.

If Henry Adams, whom you knew slightly, could make a theory of history by applying the second law of thermodynamics to human affairs, I ought to be entitled to base one on the angle of repose, and may yet. There is another physical law that teases me, too: the Doppler Effect. The sound of anything coming at you -- a train, say, or the future -- has a higher pitch than the sound of the same thing going away. If you have perfect pitch and a head for mathematics you can compute the speed of the object by the interval between its arriving and departing sounds. I have neither perfect pitch nor a head for mathematics, and anyway who wants to compute the speed of history? Like all falling bodies, it constantly accelerates. But I would like to hear your life as you heard it, coming at you, instead of hearing it as I do, a sober sound of expectations reduced, desires blunted, hopes deferred or abandoned, chances lost, defeats accepted, griefs borne. I don't find your life uninteresting, as Rodman does. I would like to hear it as it sounded while it was passing. Having no future of my own, why shouldn't I look forward to yours.

Hope deferred makes the heart sick,          h but a desire fulfilled is  i a tree of life.

Hope deferred maketh the heart sick. And yet, as we said, Hope is but deferred; not abolished, not abolishable.

Hope deferred maketh the heart sick. 

What dreams have they forced you to defer? Did you want to be a pilot and fly planes? Did they say you wouldn't make it in the Ivy League? Did you want to be a poet and write your poems in the stars like the ones that came before? Maybe the darkness inside stole your dreams? Left you broken and buried In a womb of despair Did you have the rise up out of the dirt, too, Learn to cultivate the light again, too? Did you ever think you would watch your parents crawling around on the floor, chasing the white ghost? Did you ever think would be next? What kind of dreams you got festering, burning inside you? How many nights you had to sit on the ceiling, Waiting for dem dreams? Chasing dem dreams Hoping they wouldn't steal dem dreams? Tell me 'bout dem dreams Tell me what dey was What dreams have they forced you to defer? And what do you plan to do about it?

Some might argue that there is human time the social phenomenon and then there is absolute time, the physical phenomenon measured by clocks. The essential point I hope you will take away here is that maybe intuition about space and time isn’t universal and that it has cultural and experiential context. What constitutes intuition and our “gut” feelings about what models of the world make the most sense must therefore also be a social phenomenon. It is something we are taught, rather than something we are born with.

But I would like to hear your life as you heard it, coming at you, instead of hearing it as I do, a somber sound of expectations reduced, desires blunted, hopes deferred or abandoned, chances lost, defeats accepted, griefs borne.

Hope deferred makes the heart sick” (Prov. 13:12). And I’ve coached some heartsick spouses over the years. They’ve deferred, served and sacrificed for decades to advance their spouse’s call, but haven’t been loved in that same way in return, and there is a hole in their hearts that aches for their husband to pursue them and their life purpose the way he pursues his own. Ignoring your partner’s purpose is something that can blow apart a marriage later in life.

This was the culmination of all her hopes. God had seen fit to answer her prayers, and she was filled to the brim with thankfulness. She was to be Queen of England, raised by this magnificent young man to be the bride of his heart and the mother of his heirs. Those who had scorned he and tried to humiliate her would now have to defer to her - she tried not to relish the prospect, but she was only human. The days of want were gone for good; very shortly she wold be the wife of the richest king ever to reign in England.

shepherds with their flock, Mary and Joseph in their shelter. The manger, of course, was empty, as it would be until that night. As ever, there was a sense of expectation in the air, a hope long deferred but finally approaching. It never failed to lift Johanna’s spirits, and yet

The sound of anything coming at you—a train, say, or the future —has a higher pitch than the sound of the same thing going away. If you have perfect pitch and a head for mathematics you can compute the speed of the object by the interval between its arriving and departing sounds. I have neither perfect pitch nor a head for mathematics, and anyway who wants to compute the speed of history? Like all falling bodies, it constantly accelerates. But I would like to hear your life as you heard it, coming at you, instead of hearing it as I do, a sober sound of expectations reduced, desires blunted, hopes deferred or abandoned, chances lost, defeats accepted, griefs borne. I don’t find your life uninteresting, as Rodman does. I would like to hear it as it sounded while it was passing. Having no future of my own, why shouldn’t I look forward to yours?

I say, therefore, that the arms with which a prince defends his state are either his own, or they are mercenaries, auxiliaries, or mixed. Mercenaries and auxiliaries are useless and dangerous; and if one holds his state based on these arms, he will stand neither firm nor safe; for they are disunited, ambitious and without discipline, unfaithful, valiant before friends, cowardly before enemies; they have neither the fear of God nor fidelity to men, and destruction is deferred only so long as the attack is; for in peace one is robbed by them, and in war by the enemy. The fact is, they have no other attraction or reason for keeping the field than a trifle of stipend, which is not sufficient to make them willing to die for you. They are ready enough to be your soldiers whilst you do not make war, but if war comes they take themselves off or run from the foe; which I should have little trouble to prove, for the ruin of Italy has been caused by nothing else than by resting all her hopes for many years on mercenaries, and although they formerly made some display and appeared valiant amongst themselves, yet when the foreigners came they showed what they were.

I'd finally reached the end of myself, all my self-reliance and denial and pride unraveling into nothingness, leaving only a blank Alison-shaped space behind. It was finished. I was done. But just as I felt myself dissolving on the tide of my own self-condemnation, the dark waves receded, and I floated into a celestial calm. I saw the whole universe laid out before me, a vast shining machine of indescribable beauty and complexity. Its design was too intricate for me to understand, and I knew I could never begin to grasp more than the smallest idea of its purpose. But I sensed that every part of it, from quark to quasar, was unique and - in some mysterious way - significant. I heard the universe as an oratorio sung by a master choir of stars, accompanied by the orchestra of the planets and the percussion of satellites and moons. The aria they performed was a song to break the heart, full of tragic dissonance and deferred hope, and yet somewhere beneath it all was a peircing refrain of glory, glory, glory. And I sensed that not only the grand movements of the cosmos, but everything that had happened in my life, was a part of that song. Even the hurts that seemed most senseless, the mistakes I would have done anything to erase - nothing could make those things good, but good could still come out of them all the same, and in the end the oratorio would be no less beautiful for it. I realized then that even though I was a tiny speck in an infinite cosmos, a blip on the timeline of eternity, I was not without purpose. And as long as I had a part in the music of the spheres, even if it was only a single grace not, I was not worthless. Nor was I alone. God help me, I prayed as I gathered up my raw and weary sense, flung them into the wormhole - And at last, found what I'd been looking for.

I like everybody to have an opinion of their own; only when my opinions are based on thought and experience, which few people have had equal opportunities of acquiring, I think it is but proper deference in others to allow themselves to be convinced. In fact, I think it is only obstinacy which keeps them from acknowledging that they are. I am not a despot, I hope?

That kind of empty; when hope is no longer deferred but evaporated, and try as you might, and you do try, you can't find the pleasure in the little things. A fine meal, good music, a breathtaking view of the landscape, the smell of the ocean, snow falling, it all adds up to a storehouse of memories and regrets, and you can't imagine there's a perchance left to be had.

He told her about the first time he had looked on the back of her neck as she sat in the church pew. Of the feeling that had never let go of him since. He talked to her of the great waste of years between then and now. A long time gone. And it was pointless, he said, to think how those years could have been put to better use, for he could hardly have put them to worse. There was no recovering them now. You could grieve endlessly for the loss of time and for the damage done therein. For the dead, and for your own lost self. But what the wisdom of the ages says is that we do well not to grieve on and on. And those old ones knew a thing or two and had some truth to tell, Inman said, for you can grieve your heart out and in the end you are still where you were. All your grief hasn't changed a thing. What you have lost will not be returned to you. It will always be lost. You're left with only your scars to mark the void. All you can choose to do is go on or not. But if you go on, it's knowing you carry your scars with you. Nevertheless, over all those wasted years, he had held in his mind the wish to kiss her there at the back of her neck, and now he had done it. There was a redemption of some kind, he believed, in such complete fulfillment of a desire so long deferred.

When Marsyas was 'torn from the scabbard of his limbs' - DELLA VAGINA DELLA MEMBRE SUE, to use one of Dante's most terrible Tacitean phrases - he had no more song, the Greek said. Apollo had been victor. The lyre had vanquished the reed. But perhaps the Greeks were mistaken. I hear in much modern Art the cry of Marsyas. It is bitter in Baudelaire, sweet and plaintive in Lamartine, mystic in Verlaine. It is in the deferred resolutions of Chopin's music. It is in the discontent that haunts Burne- Jones's women. Even Matthew Arnold, whose song of Callicles tells of 'the triumph of the sweet persuasive lyre,' and the 'famous final victory,' in such a clear note of lyrical beauty, has not a little of it; in the troubled undertone of doubt and distress that haunts his verses, neither Goethe nor Wordsworth could help him, though he followed each in turn, and when he seeks to mourn for THYRSIS or to sing of the SCHOLAR GIPSY, it is the reed that he has to take for the rendering of his strain. But whether or not the Phrygian Faun was silent, I cannot be. Expression is as necessary to me as leaf and blossoms are to the black branches of the trees that show themselves above the prison walls and are so restless in the wind. Between my art and the world there is now a wide gulf, but between art and myself there is none. I hope at least that there is none.

King David in Psalm 37 writes "Take delight in the Giver, and He will give you the desires of your heart," intimating that the secret to finding our way in the world is more about cooperating with God than appeasing God. That the Giver of life is also the Giver of our desires, which means that life has an invitational co-creative nature to it... Why do we always believe that the path of our deepest desire would be so far from the path that God would have us walk? How is the path of desire so different from the path to the Giver of that desire?

In a representative statement from 1963, he claimed, “Man does not know most of the rules on which he acts; and even what we call his intelligence is largely a system of rules which operate on him but which he does not know.”60 This deference to the precognitive or the pre-rational is what separated him from the rational choice and rational expectations models of Chicago School economists, who professed much more faith in the possibility of both formal mathematical modeling and forecasting. As he explained in his Nobel speech, Hayek saw such efforts as not only presumptuous but misleading. The best one could hope for was pattern prediction.

POLLARD had known better, but instead of pulling rank and insisting that his officers carry out his proposal to sail for the Society Islands, he embraced a more democratic style of command. Modern survival psychologists have determined that this “social”—as opposed to “authoritarian”—form of leadership is ill suited to the early stages of a disaster, when decisions must be made quickly and firmly. Only later, as the ordeal drags on and it is necessary to maintain morale, do social leadership skills become important. Whalemen in the nineteenth century had a clear understanding of these two approaches. The captain was expected to be the authoritarian, what Nantucketers called a fishy man. A fishy man loved to kill whales and lacked the tendency toward self-doubt and self-examination that could get in the way of making a quick decision. To be called “fishy to the backbone” was the ultimate compliment a Nantucketer could receive and meant that he was destined to become, if he wasn’t already, a captain. Mates, however, were expected to temper their fishiness with a more personal, even outgoing, approach. After breaking in the green hands at the onset of the voyage—when they gained their well-deserved reputations as “spit-fires”—mates worked to instill a sense of cooperation among the men. This required them to remain sensitive to the crew’s changeable moods and to keep the lines of communication open. Nantucketers recognized that the positions of captain and first mate required contrasting personalities. Not all mates had the necessary edge to become captains, and there were many future captains who did not have the patience to be successful mates. There was a saying on the island: “[I]t is a pity to spoil a good mate by making him a master.” Pollard’s behavior, after both the knockdown and the whale attack, indicates that he lacked the resolve to overrule his two younger and less experienced officers. In his deference to others, Pollard was conducting himself less like a captain and more like the veteran mate described by the Nantucketer William H. Macy: “[H]e had no lungs to blow his own trumpet, and sometimes distrusted his own powers, though generally found equal to any emergency after it arose. This want of confidence sometimes led him to hesitate, where a more impulsive or less thoughtful man would act at once. In the course of his career he had seen many ‘fishy’ young men lifted over his head.” Shipowners hoped to combine a fishy, hard-driving captain with an approachable and steady mate. But in the labor-starved frenzy of Nantucket in 1819, the Essex had ended up with a captain who had the instincts and soul of a mate, and a mate who had the ambition and fire of a captain. Instead of giving an order and sticking with it, Pollard indulged his matelike tendency to listen to others. This provided Chase—who had no qualms about speaking up—with the opportunity to impose his own will. For better or worse, the men of the Essex were sailing toward a destiny that would be determined, in large part, not by their unassertive captain but by their forceful and fishy mate.

XccMost people have had a period or periods in their lives when they have felt thus forsaken—when, having long hoped against hope, and still seen the day of fruition deferred, their hearts have truly sickened within them. This is a terrible hour, but it is often that darkest point which precedes the rise of day—that turn of the year when the icy January wind carries over the waste at once the dirge of departing winter and the prophecy of coming spring. The perishing birds, however, cannot thus understand the blast before which they shiver; and as little can the suffering soul recognize, in the climax of its affliction, the dawn of its deliverance. Yet, let whoever grieves still cling fast to love and faith in God. God will never deceive, never finally desert him. "Whom He loveth, He chasteneth." These words are true, and should not be forgotten.

I believe all of us want the same things - we're all together, the industrial workers and the women and the farmers and the negro race and the Asiatic colonies, and even a few of the Respectables. It's all the same revolt, in all the classes that have waited and taken advice. I think perhaps we want a more conscious life. We're tired of drudging and sleeping and dying. We're tired of seeing just a few people able to be individualists. We're tired of always deferring hope till the next generation. We're tired of hearing the politicians and priests and cautious reformers (and the husbands!) coax us, "Be calm! Be patient! Wait! We have the plans for a Utopia already made; just give us a bit more time and we'll produce it, trust us, we're wiser than you." For ten thousand years they've said that. We want our Utopia NOW - we're going to try our hands at it. All we want is - everything for all of us! For every housewife and every longshoreman and every Hindu nationalist and every teacher. We want everything. We shan't get it. So we shan't ever be content.

Men often defer the hopes of their wives in several critical areas, and women often unconsciously return the favor. According to relationship expert Dr. Gary Smalley, the four greatest needs of a woman are: (1) emotional and physical security, (2) the need for regular meaningful communication, (3) nonsexual touch, and (4) romance. Each night when a husband comes home, his wife (sometimes without even knowing it) hopes that these needs will be addressed and fulfilled. They want to feel the security of his love and commitment; the safety of being able to express their feelings and opinions without being interrupted or criticized. They want to be held and caressed without it being linked to the husband’s need for sex. They want to be listened to and have the chance to talk about their day. They want to be able to talk about their hopes, desires, and dreams. They want to hear about their husband’s day. They want to feel connected. And, they want to be romanced. They want to feel valued for who they are, not just what they do. And how do husbands defer their

Evie.” She glanced at Sebastian. Whatever she saw in his face caused her to walk around the bed to him. “Yes,” she said with a concerned frown. “Dearest, this is going to help you—” “No.” It would kill him. It was difficult enough already to fight the fever and the pain. If he was further weakened by a long bloodletting he wouldn’t be able to hold on any longer. Frantically Sebastian tugged at his tautly stretched arm, but the binding held fast and the chair didn’t even wobble. Bloody hell. He stared up at his wife wretchedly, battling a wave of light-headedness. “No,” he rasped. “Don’t…let him…” “Darling,” Evie whispered, bending over to kiss his shaking mouth. Her eyes were suddenly shiny with unshed tears. “This may be your best chance—your only chance—” “I’ll die. Evie…” Rising fear caused blackness to streak across his vision, but he forced his eyes to stay open. Her face became a blur. “I’ll die,” he whispered again. “Lady St. Vincent,” came Dr. Hammond’s steady, kind voice, “your husband’s anxiety is quite understandable. However, his judgment is impaired by illness. At this time, you are the one who is best able to make decisions for his benefit. I would not recommend this procedure if I did not believe in its efficacy. You must allow me to proceed. I doubt Lord St. Vincent will even remember this conversation.” Sebastian closed his eyes and let out a groan of despair. If only Hammond were some obvious lunatic with a maniacal laugh…someone Evie would instinctively mistrust. But Hammond was a respectable man, with all the conviction of someone who believed he was doing the right thing. The executioner, it seemed, could come in many guises. Evie was his only hope, his only champion. Sebastian would never have believed it would come to this…his life depending on the decision of an unworldly young woman who would probably allow herself to be persuaded by the Hammond’s authority. There was no one else for Sebastian to appeal to. He felt her gentle fingers at the side of his fevered face, and he stared up at her pleadingly, unable to form a word. Oh God, Evie, don’t let him— “All right,” Evie said softly, staring at him. Sebastian’s heart stopped as he thought she was speaking to the doctor…giving permission to bleed him. But she moved to the chair and deftly untied Sebastian’s wrist, and began to massage the reddened skin with her fingertips. She stammered a little as she spoke. “Dr. H-Hammond…Lord St. Vincent does not w-want the procedure. I must defer to his wishes.” To Sebastian’s eternal humiliation, his breath caught in a shallow sob of relief. “My lady,” Hammond countered with grave anxiety, “I beg you to reconsider. Your deference to the wishes of a man who is out of his head with fever may prove to be the death of him. Let me help him. You must trust my judgment, as I have infinitely more experience in such matters.” Evie sat carefully on the side of the bed and rested Sebastian’s hand in her lap. “I do respect your j-j—” She stopped and shook her head impatiently at the sound of her own stammer. “My husband has the right to make the decision for himself.” Sebastian curled his fingers into the folds of her skirts. The stammer was a clear sign of her inner anxiety, but she would not yield. She would stand by him. He sighed unsteadily and relaxed, feeling as if his tarnished soul had been delivered into her keeping.

The most poignant lesson, which proved to be the last, was held a few days before the wedding. Diana’s thoughts were on the profound changes ahead. Miss Snipp noted: “Lady Diana rather tired--too many late nights. I delivered silver salt-cellars--present from West Heath school--very beautiful and much admired. Lady Diana counting how many days of freedom are left to her. Rather sad. Masses of people outside of Palace. We hope to resume lessons in October. Lady Diana said: “In 12 days time I shall no longer be me.’” Even as she spoke those words Diana must have known that she had left behind her bachelor persona as soon as she had entered the Palace portals. In the weeks following the engagement she had grown in confidence and self-assurance, her sense of humour frequently bubbling to the surface. Lucinda Craig Harvey saw her former cleaning lady on several occasions during her engagement, once at the 30th birthday party of her brother-in-law, Neil McCorquodale. “She had a distance to her and everyone was in awe of her,” she recalls. It was a quality also noticed by James Gilbey. “She has always been seen as a typical Sloane Ranger. That’s not true. She was always removed, always had a determination about her and was very matter-of-fact, almost dogmatic. That quality has now developed into a tremendous presence.” While she was in awe of Prince Charles, deferring to his every decision, she didn’t appear to be overcome by her surroundings. Inwardly she may have been nervous, outwardly she appeared calm, relaxed and ready to have fun. At Prince Andrew’s 21st birthday party which was held at Windsor Castle she was at her ease among friends. When her future brother-in-law asked where he could find the Duchess of Westminster, the wife of Britain’s richest aristocrat, she joked: “Oh Andrew, do stop name dropping.” Her ready repartee, cutting but not vicious, was reminiscent of her eldest sister Sarah when she was the queen bee of the Society circuit. “Don’t look so serious it’s not working,” joked Diana as she introduced Adam Russell to the Queen, Prince Charles and other members of the royal family in the receiving line at the ball held at Buckingham Palace two days before her wedding. Once again she seemed good humoured and relaxed in her grand surroundings. There wasn’t the slightest sign that a few hours earlier she had collapsed in paroxysms of tears and seriously considered calling the whole thing off.

The great lesson here taught is for all time. Often the Christian life is beset by dangers, and duty seems hard to perform. The imagination pictures impending ruin before and bondage or death behind. Yet the voice of God speaks clearly, “Go forward.” We should obey this command, even though our eyes cannot penetrate the darkness, and we feel the cold waves about our feet. The obstacles that hinder our progress will never disappear before a halting, doubting spirit. Those who defer obedience till every shadow of uncertainty disappears and there remains no risk of failure or defeat, will never obey at all. Unbelief whispers, “Let us wait till the obstructions are removed, and we can see our way clearly;” but faith courageously urges an advance, hoping all things, believing all things.

February 11 MORNING “And they took knowledge of them, that they had been with Jesus.” — Acts 4:13 A Christian should be a striking likeness of Jesus Christ. You have read lives of Christ, beautifully and eloquently written, but the best life of Christ is His living biography, written out in the words and actions of His people. If we were what we profess to be, and what we should be, we should be pictures of Christ; yea, such striking likenesses of Him, that the world would not have to hold us up by the hour together, and say, “Well, it seems somewhat of a likeness;” but they would, when they once beheld us, exclaim, “He has been with Jesus; he has been taught of Him; he is like Him; he has caught the very idea of the holy Man of Nazareth, and he works it out in his life and every-day actions.” A Christian should be like Christ in his boldness. Never blush to own your religion; your profession will never disgrace you: take care you never disgrace that. Be like Jesus, very valiant for your God. Imitate Him in your loving spirit; think kindly, speak kindly, and do kindly, that men may say of you, “He has been with Jesus.” Imitate Jesus in His holiness. Was He zealous for His Master? So be you; ever go about doing good. Let not time be wasted: it is too precious. Was He selfdenying, never looking to His own interest? Be the same. Was He devout? Be you fervent in your prayers. Had He deference to His Father’s will? So submit yourselves to Him. Was He patient? So learn to endure. And best of all, as the highest portraiture of Jesus, try to forgive your enemies, as He did; and let those sublime words of your Master, “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do,” always ring in your ears. Forgive, as you hope to be forgiven. Heap coals of fire on the head of your foe by your kindness to him. Good for evil, recollect, is godlike. Be godlike, then; and in all ways and by all means, so live that all may say of you, “He has been with Jesus.

It is possible to merely assent that something is a sin without getting the new perspective on it and experiencing the new inward aversion to it that gives you the power and freedom to change. Put another way, there is a false kind of repentance that is really self-pity. You may admit your sin, but you aren’t really sorry for the sin itself. You are sorry about the painful consequences to you. You want that pain to stop, so you end the behavior. It may be, however, that there hasn’t been any real inward alteration of the false beliefs and hopes, the inordinate desires, and the mistaken self-perceptions that caused the sin. For example, this husband did not come to grips with his misplaced pride and insecurity, and his need for exaggerated deference and respect from women. His “repentance” was completely selfish, caring only about his pain and not about the grief he was causing his wife and God. He was only sorry about himself, not about the sin.

Hope deferred makes the heart sick,        but a dream fulfilled is a tree of life.

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a dream fulfilled is a tree of life. —Proverbs 13:12

There are verses that talk about this -- Pro 13:12 Hope deferred maketh the heart sick: but when the desire cometh, it is a tree of life. Col 3:21 Fathers, provoke not your children to anger, lest they be discouraged. Children, in order to thrive and become healthy, loving adults, need to be able to have attainable goals.  We need to be able to have our hopes come to fruition. When we are told what to do and we do it, we need to have that be good enough in the eyes of our parents.  When that hope is deferred, endlessly squashed, a child loses hope and may eventually stop trying.  But when that hope is satisfied through parental approval and love, it really is like a tree of life.  Being able to make a parent happy with us – well, it’s the deferred dream of many, many wounded children and adults.  And it wouldn’t be in the Bible if God Himself didn’t recognize it as true. 

Hope deferred makes the heart sick (but)... a longing fulfilled is sweet to the soul.

To take another example, it is unthinkable for Hindus to enter temples with their shoes on. Even so, why don’t we, as Indians, cheat and enter places of worship covertly in our shoes? Simply because we feel it is disrespectful to do so. No law is needed; no politician at the top needs to remind us. It is our society’s core values that guide us—we have learnt that places of worship should be treated with respect, and removing our shoes is one way of showing deference. Now, if only we felt the same way about corruption! Well, hopefully we will, one day.

Yet, as Brandon explained with a mixture of bitterness and regret, college proved to be the start of a long series of disappointments. Unable to pass calculus or physics, he switched his major from engineering to criminal justice. Still optimistic, he applied to several police departments upon graduation, excited about a future of “catching crooks.” The first department used a bewildering lottery system for hiring, and he didn’t make the cut. The second informed him that he had failed a mandatory spelling test (“I had a degree!”) and refused to consider his application. Finally, he became “completely turned off to this idea” when the third department disqualified him because of a minor incident in college in which he and his roommate “borrowed” a school-owned buffing machine as a harmless prank. Because he “could have been charged with a felony,” the department informed him, he was ineligible for police duty. Regrettably, his college had no record of the incident. Brandon had volunteered the information out of a desire to illustrate his honest and upstanding character and improve his odds of getting the job. With “two dreams deferred,”2 Brandon took a job as the nightshift manager of a clothing chain, hoping it would be temporary. Eleven years later, he describes his typical day, which consists of unloading shipments, steaming and pricing garments, and restocking the floor, as “not challenging at all. I don’t get to solve problems or be creative. I don’t get to work with numbers, and I am a numbers guy. I basically babysit a team and deal with personnel.” When his loans came out of deferment, he couldn’t afford the monthly payments and decided to get a master’s degree—partly to increase his earning potential and partly to put his loans back into deferment. After all, it had been “hammered into his head” that higher education was the key to success. He put on twenty-five pounds while working and going to school full-time for three years. He finally earned a master’s degree in government, paid for with more loans from “that mean lady Sallie Mae.”3 So far, Brandon has still not found a job that will pay him enough to cover his monthly loan and living expenses. He has managed to keep the loans in deferment by continually consolidating—a strategy that costs him $5,000 a year in interest. Taking

This whole town does look like whatever hope becomes after it begins to weary a little, then weary a little more. But hope deferred is still hope.

All choices and avoidances are relative to concrete circumstances. The answer to moral questions is always: carry out hedonic calculus. Measure the advantages versus the disadvantages. Since a pleasant life is the goal, we must avoid or defer instant gratification if it carries disadvantages greater than the pleasure it brings. We therefore sometimes choose disadvantages in the hopes of a greater, longer-term pleasure.

From now on, you could do business with anyone you’d like, no matter their religion or creed. A side effect was that in those very countries with a strong rule of law, assuring regulations and contracts would be honoured, belief in a vengeful God diminished. The role of God the father was to be supplanted by faith in the state. In the wake of the Enlightenment, religion consequently adopted a much friendlier demeanour. These days, few states still defer to the judging eye of God, and instead of calling for bloody crusades, popes give heartwarming speeches about ‘a revolution of tenderness’. Can it be a coincidence that the largest concentrations of atheists are to be found in countries like Denmark or Sweden? These nations also have the most robust rule of law and most trustworthy bureaucracies. In countries like these, religion has been displaced. Much as mass production once sidelined traditional craftspeople, God lost his job to bureaucrats.

And so he left things as they were. Without realizing it, he was beginning to defer his problems in the hope that death would resolve them,

Protecting my heart from being hurt would only preserve the hopelessness I held there. The only way to heal hope deferred is by taking the risk of hoping again.

FEBRUARY 11 MORNING AND THEY RECOGNIZED THAT THEY HAD BEEN WITH JESUS. — ACTS 4:1 3 A Christian should be a striking likeness of Jesus Christ. You have read lives of Christ, beautifully and eloquently written, but the best life of Christ is His living biography, written out in the words and actions of His people. If we were what we profess to be, and what we should be, we would be pictures of Christ; yes, such striking likenesses of Him that the world would not have to hold us to the mirror and say, “Well, it seems somewhat of a likeness”; they would, when they saw us, exclaim, “He has been with Jesus; he has been taught by Him; he is like Him; he has caught the very idea of the holy Man of Nazareth, and he works it out in his life and everyday actions.” A Christian should be like Christ in his boldness. Never blush to own your Christianity; your profession will never disgrace you: Take care you never disgrace that. Be like Jesus, very valiant for your God. Imitate Him in your loving spirit; think kindly, speak kindly, and do kindly, that men may say of you, “He has been with Jesus.” Imitate Jesus in His holiness. Was He zealous for His Master? So should you be, going about doing good. Do not waste time; it is too precious. Was He self-denying, never looking to His own interest? Be the same. Was He devout? Then be fervent in your prayers. Did He defer to His Father’s will? So submit yourselves to Him. Was He patient? So learn to endure. And best of all, as the highest portraiture of Jesus, try to forgive your enemies, as He did; and let those sublime words of your Master, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do,” always ring in your ears. Forgive, as you hope to be forgiven. Heap coals of fire on the head of your enemy by your kindness to him. Good for evil, remember, is Godlike. Be Godlike then; and in all ways and by all means so live that all may say of you, “He has been with Jesus.

Will pitched his voice low, a servant’s deference, and hoped Salisbury’s expansive mode continued, although he dreaded to learn the source of it.

Hope deferred maketh the heart sick: but when desire cometh, it is a tree of life. Proverbs, 13:12

The longing for rain has become almost an obsession. We remember the gentle all-night rains that used to make a grateful music on the shingles close above our heads... But we waken to another day of wind and dust and hopes deferred, of attempts to use to the utmost every small resource, to care for the stock and poultry as well as we can with our scanty supplies, to keep our balance and to trust that upon some happier day our wage may even yet come in.

It seems impossible to dispense with that little word hope, even though at times we are conscious of the pain of hopes too long deferred.

As hard as the first year of the pandemic was on everyone, it left some good things in its wake - things that, I hope and believe, will endure. One of them is a renewed appreciation for our elderly and a focus on their care. I was born into a culture that reveres and protects its old people. We defer to their hard-won wisdom and keep them close to us - as much as for our benefit as for their protection.

Hope deferred makes the heart sick: but when the desire comes, it is a tree of life,” I read. Then I read the verse again, slowly, as a sudden, irrevocable knowledge reverberated in my breast like the tolling of bells. “If I don’t do this, I cannot continue on,” I said to the silent walls. “I would rather die.

Something I have been pondering with the Lord now for quite some time is—could hope deferred and weariness be not just an emotion but actually a demonic principality waiting to attach itself? I’m no theologian in this area, but time and time again as I’ve prayed for people, myself included, and commanded hope deferred and weariness to go in Jesus’ name, it physically lifts off people. The person receiving prayer physically looks like the weight of the world has been lifted off their shoulders.

Perhaps as you are reading this, you may be like I was today—realizing that it’s time to command that hope deferred and weariness to go in Jesus’ name! Come on, try it out. The blood of the Lamb was shed for you, so as a believer in Him, if you have accepted Him into your heart, that means you have the living Christ inside of you, and Christ defeated satan and every little principality that he carries. So it’s time that you apply that blood of Jesus and command: “Weariness and hope deferred, it’s time to go in Jesus’ name!

It’s a book. Iz would give me a book. I trace the aged leather, the letters pressed into the weathered cover. Montage of a Dream Deferred by Langston Hughes. I flip open the front cover, and my blood stands still in my veins when I note the date—1951—and the famous poet’s autograph. A signed first edition. I turn to the spot slotted by an index card, a crisp contrast to the worn, fragile pages. The poem is “Harlem,” and the familiar refrain asking what happens to a dream deferred stings tears in my eyes. I can’t ever read this poem without remembering the day my cousin died in the front yard. There are some moments in life that will always haunt us, no matter how many joys follow, and that day is one of those. I’ll never forget reciting this poem in my bedroom closet to keep Jade calm while one of her brothers shot the other. Iz couldn’t know its personal significance to me, but as I read the card, I understand why he chose it. GRIP, Our brothers live so long with dreams deferred, they forget how to imagine another life. For many of them, all they know is frustration, then rage, and for too many, the violence of finally exploding. You symbolize hope, and I know you take that responsibility seriously. I hope you know I believe that, and that nothing I’ve said led you to think otherwise. Bristol’s right—our biases are our weaknesses. Few are as patient as she is to give people time to become wiser. Thank her for me, for giving me time and for encouraging you to work with me. Together, I think we will restore the dreams of many. Merry Christmas, Iz

Why do we always believe that the path of our deepest desire would be so far from the path that God would have us walk? How is the path of desire so different from the path to the Giver of that desire?

Hope deferred makes the heart sick: but when the desire comes, it is a tree of life.

Whispers of the Sou In the quiet realm where shadows play, A restless mind lost in the endless fray. No respite was found in the arms of sleep, Just wandering thoughts, in silence, deep. No words exist to capture the ache, The soul's turmoil, a relentless quake. In this vast expanse of unspoken pain, A heart's echo, a lone refrain. I walk the corridors of my own mind, A ceaseless journey, no rest to find. Words falter to describe the unknown, A symphony of thoughts in a world of their own. If emotion had language, would it speak of woe? Of dreams deferred and seeds that never grow. A paradox unfolds, reality's bitter twist, In the paradox of existence, a mystery persist. I am, yet why not, a question unanswered, In the tapestry of life, a thread unmastered. The universe weaves its cosmic design, Yet, in waiting, I linger, in the labyrinth of time. Thoughts dance like shadows, elusive, untamed, Yet consciousness binds, a truth unclaimed. A grand plan unfolds in the cosmic scheme, Yet, in the unfolding, reality may seem. I ponder the grandeur of the universe's art, Yet reality echoes, tearing worlds apart. For in the waiting, a patience wears thin, A relentless yearning for a destiny to begin. In the symphony of silence, a poet's plea, To articulate the ineffable, set emotions free. No language coined, no verse complete, In the corridors of thought, where echoes repeat. And as the stars bow to the night's embrace, A revelation dawns, a celestial grace. For in the quiet realm where shadows play, A serenade of hope whispers, lighting the way. In the tapestry of silence, a new verse is spun, A symphony of resilience, a battle not yet won. As the echoes fade, a metamorphosis takes flight, In the dance of shadows, emerges the eternal light.

Exploration is about formulating hypotheses or best guesses; confirmation is about rigorously testing preliminary conclusions. Confirmation turns best guesses into sure bets. As in scientific discovery, the less we know about a phenomenon, the more openended our questions. As relevant knowledge builds up, we become more precise about what we seek to learn, and we start to anticipate (more and more accurately) what we will find. Because hypothesis-testing experiments (for example, taking a new job on a provisional basis) are usually more costly than exploratory experiments (for example, working on a side project without leaving one’s job), we prefer to defer the former until we have solid data suggesting that we are going in the right direction. Variety for its own sake is not enough. In fact, a prolonged exploratory phase can be a defense mechanism against changing, and it can signal to others that we are not serious about making change. A true experimental method almost always leads to formulating new goals and new means to achieve them. As we learn from experience, we have to be willing to close avenues of exploration, to accept that what we thought we knew was wrong and that what we were hoping to find no longer suits

The deference to the forms and ‘rules’ of Greek and Latin authors, especially Latin, with their clarity, focus, and decorum; the assumption that literature, and all the arts, should be an ideal imitation of life, or ‘Nature methodiz’d’ (in Alexander Pope’s phrase), and that their purpose is to improve our morals by purging tragic passions or ridiculing comic vices, including religious ‘enthusiasm’; the acceptance of human limitations and the necessity of order in both the arts and society, though often tempered with a modest hope that civility and reasonableness may enlarge their domain – these norms were widespread in the 17th and early 18th centuries among the literate elite of Europe.

If there's an answer she's hoping for, probably she should just do that. Probably she shouldn't defer to a flower. No more tricks, no more dodging: she wants something, and she's going to have to admit it.

Faith works by love. Once we experience His liberty and love, we will be able to resist that call from self to be pitied and can overthrow hope deferred.3 Hope deferred happens when we begin with an expectation that God will break through. We face a test, and our shield of faith is in place, but we have assumed that God would act in a certain way and in a certain time frame. The time we have established comes, but we don’t see the answer. The fulfillment of our hope is deferred. We find ourselves continuing to wait for a breakthrough, but as we wait we grow tired and become discouraged. Our heart feels sick. Satan tells us that the breakthrough will never come.

In the midst of hope deferred, our shield of faith seems like a heavy burden to carry. The temptation is to lay it down. But if we let go of our faith, we can miss the promise. It is not enough to start out in faith; we must continue along the path, taking each step in faith. And we must be patient. Faith + Patience = Promises Received Many

Moses fell into the trap of hope deferred. He eventually grew weary of the battle. As Moses was in the wilderness with all the people around him moaning, complaining and accusing, he began to grow weary. He took his eyes off God and put them on his situation.

Salvation deferred—is the son of denial that ignores hope in the face of faith while slighting love.

Hope deferred makes the heart sick: but when the desire comes, it is a tree of life,” I read.

The messengers I sent were two boys barely older than Reuben whom I chose not only because they would be able to make the journey with the speed of gazelles but also because they were so fresh-faced and young that the sight of them might persuade Esau that my intentions in returning were peaceful. I told them that when they saw him they must be sure to address him with great courtesy and deference. His servant Jacob, they were to say, had been living for the past twenty years with Laban and was returning home now in hope that he might find favor in his brother’s eyes. They must be sure to say that I was his servant Jacob. Would he give his cavernous, wet toothed smile at that? Or would it send a murderous growl rumbling out of his red beard? Maybe he was the same Esau who had smothered me with kisses even when I had bought the moon and stars from him for a pot of beans. Or maybe my treachery had festered in him all these years like an arrowhead so that when he finally got his hands on me, he would break my back over his knees like a dry stick. It took the two boys the better part of a week to return. They had seen Esau. He had just come back from the hunt with six quail hung from his belt, they said, and the bloody brush of a fox like a plume in his headband. When they gave him their message, he let out such a roar that they thought their hour had come. Then he took one of them in the crook of each arm and almost crushed the breath out of them against his chest. “Tell him I will come meet him,” he said. They told me his whole body shook as if from fever. “I will start out tomorrow,” he said. “Tell him I will bring a hundred men with me. Tell him,” he said, “that I will bring four hundred men with me.” He started laughing and clapping his hands at that. He clapped them together with his palms cupped to make it like the pounding of drums. His men clapped too. He had to shout to make himself heard over the din of it. “Tell him I have never forgotten him!” he cried. “Never! Never!” They said his eyes were bloodshot and teary. There was spittle on his lips. They said when he reached out to grab them again, they ducked and ran. They thought he had gone mad.

Because of a profound, deep-seated doubt in their own competence, which begins in early childhood, girls become convinced that they must have protection if they are going to survive. This belief is bred into women by misguided social expectations (...) Girls are trained very differently than boys. The training leads to their becoming adults who stay stuck in jobs beneath their capabilities. It leads them to feel intimidated by the men they marry, and to defer to them in the hope of being protected. It even leads (...) to the crippling of women's intellectual abilities. Long praised by teachers for being diligent and dutiful in school, we who rely on dutifulness to get us by in the professional world son find ourselves being treated as if we were not quite grown up. (...) Not to be taken seriously. And (...) easily exploitable. (...) The way girls are socialized continues to predetermine an agonizing conflict over the psychological independence that's necessary if women are ever to spring free and take their place in the sun.

Recently I am so much in to numbers, equations & scientific facts! I learned how to link logic to reason, and to be honest sometimes I couldn't, simply because logic is not stander defined, it defers from one to another (it is the science of reasoning), that made me think deeply about life, what is the real reason behind all the unbelievable stories in my life, how can I discover the logic behind what is happening behind the scene! Then it hit me, I discovered that everything is supernaturally working in harmony to serve me at the end, no matter how hard it felt ! I was granted hope in different ways, only in the mysterious equations of love that any logic or reasons can be found, Because of the only logic I found I am able to be alive now! Amazing how God love us, yet we are so blind to see it, because we accept blessings as a given right!

Lord Auditor Vorthys, a word before you depart. Madame Vorsoisson”—he took Ekaterin’s hand again—“we’ll talk more when I am less pressed for time. Security concerns have deferred public recognition, but I hope you realize you’ve earned a personal account of honor with the Imperium of great depth, which you may draw upon at need and at will.” Ekaterin blinked, startled almost to protest.

Tips to Manage your student loan by The Student Loan Help Center Managing Your Student Loans Apply these responsible financial management principles, as you repay your student loans: Consider the advantages of loan forgiveness programs. These programs are available to students who agree to work in high-need fields like nursing and education. Enrolling in the military often makes you eligible for loan forgiveness. Essentially, you commit to work or serve for a designated period of time, in exchange for complete or partial loan forgiveness. Make student loan payments on time. In some cases, your interest rate may qualify for reduction after you make a certain number of consecutive on-time payments. If you have a cosigner, he or she may also be released from responsibility for the loan, once you have exhibited a required level of consistency with your repayments. Defaulting on your student loans has far-reaching consequences, so it should never be an option. Manage your loan repayment schedule using online calculators. If you are considering a consolidation loan, use these tools to quickly determine your total loan repayment obligation. Take advantage of federal education tax incentives, like the student loan interest deduction and Hope Scholarship Credit. Student Loan Tips: Use student loans to supplement other financial aid awards, like grants and scholarships. Make sure to start a college savings plan as early as possible. College accounts like the 529 savings plans allow you to save pre-tax money for college. Understand the terms of your federal and private student loans, before you sign on. You will be bound to the conditions of your loans for many years. Don’t miss payments. Be proactive in protecting your credit, by contacting your lender before you default. You can consider consolidation loans, deferments and other accommodations of the available options, to keep your repayment schedule on track. For more Questions you can contact The Student Loan Help Center.

life. Such a relationship requires that you seek God like never before. So start this year right by becoming more deeply and intimately acquainted with the One who has all power in heaven and earth. JANUARY 3 Trust in the Power of Hope Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but when the desire is fulfilled, it is a tree of life. PROVERBS 13:12 I define hope as “the happy anticipation of good things.” You can hope for something good to happen to you by learning how to celebrate and enjoy life. Everything in life is a process in motion. Without movement and progression there is no life. As long as you live you are always heading somewhere, and you should enjoy yourself on the way. God created you to be a goal-oriented visionary. Without a vision you become bored and hopeless. But there’s something about hope that makes people lighthearted and happy. Hope is a powerful spiritual force that is activated through your positive attitude. God is positive and He wants positive things to happen to you, but that probably won’t happen unless you have hope and faith. Expect God to bring good out of every circumstance in your life. Whatever happens, trust in the Lord . . . and trust in the power of hope!

sickness of hope deferred,

Hope deferred makes the heart sick” (Prov. 13:12).

No one who has not been through it can know the chilly, paralyzing, deadening depression of hope deferred and energy wasted and vitality run to seed. I sometimes think it is the most tragic thing in life.

The contradiction between the letter of the Covenant and the policy of the Allies is even more flagrant in the case of the “independent nation” of Palestine than in that of the “independent nation” of Syria. For in Palestine we do not propose even to go through the form of consulting the wishes of the present inhabitants of the country.… The four Great Powers are committed to Zionism. And Zionism, be it right or wrong, good or bad, is rooted in age-long traditions, in present needs, in future hopes, of far profounder import than the desires and prejudices of the 700,000 Arabs who now inhabit that ancient land. In my opinion that is right. What I have never been able to understand is how it can be harmonised with the declaration, the Covenant, or the instructions to the Commission of Enquiry. I do not think that Zionism will hurt the Arabs; but they will never say they want it. Whatever be the future of Palestine it is not now an “independent nation,” nor is it yet on the way to become one. Whatever deference should be paid to the views of those who live there, the Powers in their selection of a mandatory do not propose, as I understand the matter, to consult them. In short, so far as Palestine is concerned, the Powers have made no statement of fact which is not admittedly wrong, and no declaration of policy which, at least in the letter, they have not always intended to violate.

The recent rise in many countries of the toxic nationalism that the architects of the United Nations hoped would be banished after the horrors of the Second World War is a reflection of this, as is the trend to greater theological conservatism in many places, and the willingness of many to defer complicated choices back to the imagined teachings of ancient gods.

The fates pay deference to the power of our love. Our disparate paths converge. I feel it.

PRAY the Power of Hope Father, I am so grateful for the treasury of tools purposely placed in Your Word for overcoming hope deferred. Your mercy, love, and power are so great that the moment I reposition my heart toward You, You meet me at my point of pain with Your healing presence. Today I choose to draw close to You, and I choose to come into agreement with Your words of life and truth. Come and enthrone Yourself in my heart. No longer will I allow painful circumstances to control my life. I position my heart to heal. SCRIPTURES

It would have been easy to shut her eyes and let him kiss her. To have the choice taken from her in one heated, passive moment, with nothing for her to do but comply. But he was asking for more than her artless submission. Not deference, not docility, but...defiance. "I want you to choose me," he said, "well and truly choose me of your own accord. I don't want you to wait at the crossroads in the hopes that I will force the choice upon you.

As long as your father's alive, you aren't yet the duchess. All that deference isn't truly warranted, is it?" In an oppressive tone, Lady Gertrude said, "My niece is the marchioness of Sherbourne and the future duchess, a position that warrants great respect among the ton. She is, in fact, frequently called Her Grace, and given all the privileges of her future rank." He had been soundly rebuked, and he bowed his head in recognition of a worthy adversary. "Whether or not he gives me the respect due to a duchess is of no importance," Madeline said with a flick of scorn. "Americans are not impressed with the aristocracy, or so they claim. One hopes, however, Mr. Knight behaves with suitable courtesy to other women he encounters- in all walks of life." Yes, Lady Gertrude had rebuked him, but it was the contempt from his future wife that stung. "I'll do my best not to embarrass you." "Do your best not to embarrass yourself," she said with icy composure.

I opened the journal and read the words scribbled an age ago by someone like me: chosen instead of resolute. I read the note in the margins again. You are asked so many times in life to help. Voices whispered or screamed or silent: “Will you help me?” You say, “I would love to,” and you move on, leaving an awkward silence. Hope deferred. Today, someone asked me for help. It was more complicated, but not really. Someone named me the 27th Protector. They asked me to help. And I found myself responding with the words I usually say. “I would love to.” But in the silence, I spoke three more words that changed everything. The next three words she had written in ink echoed through my exhausted mind. I closed the book and laid down, eager for the bliss of sleep. But those three words escaped from my lips to fill the horrible void she talked about, fighting all my worst fears with hope. “I would love to…” “So I will.

Hope deferred maketh the heart sick.

General Kelly, the homeland security secretary and retired four-star Marine general, was furious when he learned that the White House was working on a compromise on immigration for “Dreamers”—a central issue in the immigration debate. Dreamers are immigrant children brought to the United States by their parents who as adults had entered illegally. Under the 2012 legislation called DACA—Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals—President Obama had given 800,000 Dreamers protection from deportation and made work permits available to them, hoping to bring them out of the shadow economy and give them an American identity. Kelly, a hard-liner on immigration, was supposed to be in charge of these matters now. But Jared Kushner had been working a backchannel compromise. He had been inviting Senator Dick Durbin, the Illinois Democrat who was number two in his party’s leadership, and Lindsey Graham to his office to discuss a compromise. Graham later asked Kelly, “Didn’t Jared tell you we’ve been working on this for months? We’ve got a fix.” Kelly called Bannon. “If the son-in-law is going to run it, then have the son-in-law run it. I don’t need to run it. I need to come see the president. I’m not doing this anymore. I’m not going to be up there and be blindsided and humiliated on something that I’ve got to be in the loop on.” Bannon believed the administration owned the hard-line immigration posture—except for Trump himself. “He’s always been soft on DACA. He believes the left-wing thing. They’re all valedictorians. They’re all Rhodes Scholars. Because Ivanka over the years has told him that.” Kelly voiced his distress to Priebus, who along with Bannon feared Kelly might quit. “Get Kelly some time on the calendar,” Bannon proposed. “Let him come see the boss and light Jared up. Because this is Jared’s shit, doing stuff behind people’s back.” Priebus didn’t do it. “Get it on the fucking calendar,” Bannon insisted. Priebus continued to stall. It would expose disorganization in the White House. “What are you talking about?” Bannon asked. This was laughable! Of course Priebus didn’t have control of Jared. And people were always going behind someone’s back. So Bannon and Priebus both told Kelly, We’ll take care of it. To go to the president would cause unnecessary consternation. We’ll make sure it won’t happen again and you’re going to be in the loop. Kelly, team player for the moment, didn’t push it further. When he later mentioned it obliquely in the president’s presence, Trump didn’t respond. Lindsey Graham wandered into Bannon’s West Wing office. “Hey, here’s the deal. You want your wall?” Trump would get wall funding in exchange for the Dreamers. “Stop,” Bannon said. A deal on the Dreamers was amnesty. “We will never give amnesty for one person. I don’t care if you build 10 fucking walls. The wall ain’t good enough. It’s got to be chain migration.” Chain migration, formally called the family reunification policy, allowed a single legal immigrant to bring close family members into the United States—parents, children, a spouse and, in some cases, siblings. These family members would have a path to legal permanent residency or citizenship. They might be followed by a “chain” of their own spouses, children, parents or siblings. Two thirds (68 percent) of legal permanent residents entered under family reunification or chain migration in 2016. This was at the heart of Trump’s and Bannon’s anti-immigration stance: They wanted to stop illegal immigration and limit legal immigration. Bannon wanted a new, stricter policy. Graham and he were not able to come close to agreement.

Hope deferred makes the heart sick.