A House of Hope

While visiting my cousin in Seattle this past week end, we walked on the campus of the University of Washington. Right past the football stadium stands an iconic boathouse that was used by the young men who went on to win the 1936 Olympic Gold Medal in rowing. Depicted in the book, “The Boys in the Boat”, these nine young men had lived through the depression, suffered losses, and were not considered likely to win anything. This boathouse was the birthplace of hope. Their hope didn’t grow out of their successes, but their struggles and suffering, both individual and collective. Hope developed little by little, as they practiced in the cold and the rain of the Pacific Northwest. With each stroke of the oar, hope was ignited and the spark grew into a torch that took them to the Berlin Olympics.

John Eldredge says, “We need an unbreakable, unquenchable hope.” Hope keeps us going, when our circumstances say differently. Hope helps us get through one more day. Hope is the anchor when we wonder if we’ll be able to stay in our boat. In Psalm 42:11, the Psalmist talks to himself and asks, “Why are you downcast, my soul? Why are you in such turmoil? Put your hope in God.” Hope needs a home.

We can put our hope in God, who is always available, never wavering, and offers us a home. A place of hope that we can rest secure. Amidst the losses, tears and fears, hope is an anchor for our souls.

"Grateful Yet Grieving"

FREE ebook by Pam Luschei | Click HERE To Download

Seismic Shift

March 2020 will be remembered as the month when life as we knew it changed. The familiar routines of driving to work, going out to lunch, and attending church all changed. The way we do life has been dramatically altered. Birthday celebrations and weddings have been cancelled or postponed. When so much change happens all at once, there is a seismic shift. The external environment has changed, which has led to an internal change in our brains. We are now left to problem solve in the present moment and come up with solutions that we were not prepared for. In most work places and schools, there are manuals and drills to practice for when a disaster happens. No one gave us a manual on this. How do couples work from home and homeschool their children at the same time? Our brains and bodies are taking on the current stressors, while being away from our support networks of real people in real time. So, now what?

Henri Nouwen said, “Hope frees us to live in the present, with the deep trust that God will never leave us.” This new space we find ourselves in has an element of discomfort, which could quite possibly lead us into a different landscape; living in the moment, without the familiar comforts, while discovering the hidden gems of what we still have. We can pay attention without distraction. (I could use some of that.) Taking a walk for the sheer pleasure of moving in space, breathing fresh air, seeing the clouds, and feeling the sun. We are adjusting and adapting in how we do our relationships. Our connections now have a screen and a microphone.

As we move into a new month and a different life than we have known, there is a fertile space for certain things to grow. Will I let my trust grow? Can I increase my faith? Can I offer hope to others during this time? Will I be grateful? I’m going to get my gloves on to start my garden and watch some things grow.

"Grateful Yet Grieving"

FREE ebook by Pam Luschei | Click HERE To Download