On a beautiful Spring afternoon, Teresa and I drove to the land Hope House will be built upon one day. It is a soothing drive on a country road, leading to a winding road through the trees, then opening into the clearing. The drive itself reminds me of hope. There is a bit of uncertainty and doubt, wondering what’s coming next, but there are glimpses of beauty along the way. There’s a winding road with arching trees overhead, obscuring the view of what’s ahead yet beautiful and protective in and of themselves. Then there is a clearing.
I sighed in hope: hope of the present and hope of the future.
Teresa and I walked across the field and into the woods that will one day be the backyard of Hope House. Those who want to stay within the walls of Hope House can find peace and healing there. Those who seek some solace in nature will have easy access to it.
Spring seems to be a bit late this year, so the green just now seems to be bursting on the scene – another reminder that hope brings growth and beauty in its own time.
We explored and found trails, a stream, oddly-shaped vines, a fallen tree, and dappled sunlight. Hope is like each of these things.
- Hope is like the stream, cutting it’s way into the earth, a bit uncontrollable yet also sustaining and cleansing and serene.
- Hope is like the twisted vines, contorting around trees in ways that seem impossible, evidence of persistence over time.
- Hope is like the fallen tree, providing a place for people to rest or critters to live even when it doesn’t seem to be in the place or position we expect.
- Hope is like dappled sunlight, piercing through the overhead trees, lighting the path ahead and making beauty with the contrast of light and darkness.
Hope is like the trails, forging the way ahead even through our uncertainty.
Please continue to pray as we journey with hope.
In the meantime, enjoy some snapshots of what God has provided for Hope House.