There is hope that is natural.
There is one that is supernatural.
It is my privilege to know a man whose demonstration of the latter deepens my own.
It has been part of my morning exercise to shoot free throws. It is a routine that helps me focus on the discipline of being sure and steady. I have been using a method popularized by Tom Amberry. He once held the record of the most consecutive free throws (2,750 in 12 hours). What seems supernatural, is most natural for Tom. He just shoots with impeccable hope.
My current shooting percentage has been rising. I attribute it solely to the science of the perfect stroke. I follow a system of seven little fluid movements. Once done with muscle memory, the basketball hits nothing but net, even with my eyes closed.
The joy of this hopeful exercise is in knowing for sure that the ball will reach the rim with precision. The swish merely affirms it.
There is only one impediment to the process, if I get distracted and lose my scientific flow.
Oh, one more thing, If while I am aiming and releasing, some hidden Kareem Abdul Jabbar intercepts it from behind while airborne. This may throw me into some baffling inquiry on how my sphere mysteriously disappeared.
This is quite like the question of supernatural miracles. The hard truth that faith is not scientifically anchored is point well taken, just because faithful hope is anchored in a most unexpected intervention.
My good friend recently lost his wife. He believes she is now in heaven. He is looking forward to a future reunion. There seems to be a scientific-disconnect to his noble hope.
Well, not quite.
If God is God and science is science, science must yield to God's ambush.
If hope is from God, one day Florie and Zeny will meet just as the ball kisses its promised goal.