Hope – Hope and Be.Longing

Hope: Pete and June’s Story, Part 1

September 6, 2017

I climb the porch steps of Pete and June’s yellow house, greeted by a row of tomatoes and acorn squash sunning themselves on the painted railing. I comment on the bounty and Pete tells me he dropped off nine bags of tomatoes on the porches of his neighbors yesterday. Just set them down and walked away. “They know,” he says simply.

I’m here to sit in their living room and just be with them—one of my favorite couples. They’re celebrating 69 years of marriage this weekend, and I want to hear their story. How do you do it, make it to 69 years?

Stories of Hope, Belonging, and Longing

Digging

August 22, 2017

I’m out back behind the shed, sitting on a pile of dirt. I did a snake check before I sat, not that there ever are snakes but there was one, once, in my garage, and if I was him this back corner of the yard is where I’d take a morning nap. And I don’t want to be the one to wake him up.

I’m between a tipped over wheelbarrow, two lime green kayaks, a log pile half un-covered, a pale garden hose, an empty trailer, and a cracked black tarp. I’m feeling out of sorts back here, thinking I might organize it differently, or at all. If you even can organize that place behind the shed, maybe freshen it up a bit.

Stories of Hope, Belonging, and Longing

Not Far Away

August 22, 2017

I have friend whose middle name means “happy”. We’ve been friends since we were fourteen; he has known me longer than anyone outside of my family in the town where I now live. His father, a gentle man with olive skin, came to know Christ after the rest of his family had already done so. There is nothing that could’ve made my friend more happy. His father is from Syria.

I have a friend whose name means “victory”. She and I have shared tea together often, engaging in long conversations as she held my hand, her eyes full of tears, her intelligent mind struggling to learn our language. I have another friend whose name means “one who laughs”, who wears an almost constant wide smile (pictured above) and just moved to a small midwestern town to be a pastor. Both of these friends are from Iran.

Stories of Hope, Belonging, and Longing

Nita’s Smile

August 22, 2017

She smiles the whole time, even as cancer ravages her body. She smiles and sings. Her smile is alight with hope as she gazes on us from her front stoop, backlit by the warmth of her home.

We shiver and sing in the bitter wind, standing on the frozen grass.

I glance around, surrounded by a ragtag crowd whose voices warm the cold air. Neighbors, co-laborers, pastors, friends. All united in love for her. I wonder if all standing there know the only One who can comfort.

Stories of Hope, Belonging, and Longing

Yellow Dot Stickers

August 22, 2017

She stumbled in and immediately dropped down on a bench.

She wiped tears from her eyes as she waited to be registered. The baby girl in her arms was bundled tightly against the cold, against the cruel world. I watched as her four-year-old pulled off bright pink gloves, welcoming the warmth of the church onto chapped hands.

Name tags in hand, we padded down the steps to the children’s area, one slow step at a time. I held tightly to the tiny hand of her daughter, dark brown skin now dotted with the round yellow stickers she had discovered on the ESL registration table.