There is nothing immediate about steamed crabs. There is no such thing as popping them into a microwave for 30 seconds and then delivering them to the table.
When I was growing up outside of Baltimore, we NEVER bought crabs already steamed. We would NEVER do something so outrageously expensive and flashy. No, we would drive an hour to get crabs for $1 less. Not $1 less per dozen, but $1 less on the total price. That was just the way we rolled.
Yes, we were the same family that drove by four gas stations, took the Interstate, and then drove by more gas stations in order to arrive at the absolutely lowest cost per gallon in the Baltimore area. I think we saved about a penny or two a gallon. It didn’t matter that it took 30 minutes. It didn’t matter how much gas we used in our two-door, tri-tone 1956 Buick Special with Dynaflow transmission.
There is nothing immediate about steamed crabs. It’s a slow process with many steps. If you tried to rush it, you’d be breaking some of the basic laws of the universe. And there was a good chance that you’d wind up violently ill from eating bad seafood.
It takes time.
It takes care.
It takes steps.
It takes moments.
Today, we want everything immediately. We are infected with the influenza of the immediate.
There is nothing immediate about hope. Hope takes time. Building hope comes;
One moment at a time.
One step at a time.
One thought at a time.
One act at a time.
Isn’t it time to put hope front and center, and move whatever else to the side? Move everything else to the side?
Move hope to the top of your priorities. You won't be disappointed.