Someday as Hope — The Lantern We Carry

The last time I wrote, someday felt big and complicated, carrying hope, longing, even procrastination in its little suitcase. But sometimes the word is simple. Sometimes it’s just light—a lantern glowing in the dark, carried forward when everything else feels dim.

When I finally hit “publish” on this blog, it was after years of saying someday. I wasn’t sure anyone would read it, but I knew I needed to write. That first post was my lantern—the small light I carried into the unknown.

“Someday” is the little word that glows brightest when life feels heavy. It’s the promise that there’s something waiting on the other side—something gentler, brighter, worth the walk.

I think of the first time I planted hydrangeas in my yard. Sixteen little green starts, looking more like sticks than anything else. There was no guarantee they’d bloom that year, but I tucked them into the soil anyway, whispering a quiet someday. And sure enough, the blooms came—not all at once, not right away, but steadily, faithfully. Hope in slow motion.

Maybe that’s what writing—and life—often is. Planting something fragile and believing it might grow.

— The Wallflower