The Christian lives in faith and tries to love. Faith's twin sister is hope. Love is nourished and given direction by faith and hope. Such is Advent. We inherit from our miraculous past the theological virtue of hope.
Hope is always humble and frequently disappointed.
Hope is not a house. Hope is not even the hands that build the house. Hope is the hands, which shape the rubble into some sort of shelter for the night when the house is ruined. It cannot be separated from its theological sisters, faith and love but it is not to be confused with optimism which is a conceited and secular cousin inherited like a passing bout of influenza from the ease and pride of life. We see their and similar temples everywhere in our midst.