Life can teach us to shrink ourselves to survive, to listen for danger instead of joy. Yet, even in the quietest moments of fear, a longing for something more can persist. This longing is not a sign of weakness, but a whisper of the divine, a gentle invitation to seek a deeper safety and a truer home. It is in these moments of vulnerability that we can begin to recognize the subtle ways God is present, even when we feel most alone. [55:37]
Psalm 18:2
The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold. (ESV)
Reflection: When you recall times of feeling unsafe or small, where do you sense a quiet longing for something more, and what might that longing be trying to tell you about God's presence?
Expectations can sometimes lead to hurt, making hope feel like a dangerous thing. However, true hope is not merely a wish for good things to happen, but a deep, steadfast assurance that anchors our souls. It is a quiet confidence that, even when circumstances are chaotic, a greater purpose is at work, guiding us toward a future filled with good. This anchor holds firm, even when the storms of life rage around us. [58:37]
Hebrews 6:19
We have this hope as an anchor of the soul, a hope both firm and secure. (ESV)
Reflection: In what areas of your life have you found yourself hesitant to hope, and how might embracing hope as a steadfast anchor change your perspective on those challenges?
Life's journey is often marked by seemingly random encounters and missed connections. Yet, looking back, we can begin to see a divine pattern, an unseen hand gently weaving our paths together. These moments, though they may have felt insignificant at the time, were part of a larger, intentional design, guiding us toward where we are meant to be. Trusting this process allows us to see God's faithfulness even in the unexpected turns. [59:18]
Proverbs 3:5-6
Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths. (ESV)
Reflection: Can you identify a time in your life when a series of seemingly unrelated events or people led you to a significant place or realization, and how might God have been orchestrating that journey?
Trust is not always easy, especially when life has taught us that people can leave and disappointment is inevitable. However, there is a quiet, steady voice within that can respond with a simple "yes" to the invitation to trust. This mustard seed of hope, when nurtured, can lead us home, to a place of belonging and love. It is in this act of trusting, even when it feels difficult, that we find a profound strength. [01:00:30]
1 Corinthians 13:7
Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. (ESV)
Reflection: When faced with an opportunity to trust someone or a situation that feels uncertain, what is one small step you can take to lean into that trust, even if it’s just a whisper of faith?
We all walk through valleys, places where hope can feel lost. Yet, scripture reminds us that God transforms these places of trouble into doors of hope, filling them with beauty and new life. Even in the midst of suffering, every part of our story is written with intention, leading us to a place of greater purpose and peace. This transformation is a testament to God's faithfulness, bringing us to a place of wholeness. [01:09:19]
Romans 8:28
And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. (ESV)
Reflection: Reflect on a time you experienced what felt like a "valley of trouble." How might God have been planting seeds of hope or weaving a purpose into that experience, even if it wasn't apparent at the time?
For most of her life, waiting defined the arc of experience: a restless longing, a habit of making herself small to survive, and a persistent emptiness that refused easy answers. Childhood fear taught vigilance and silence; imagination and the woods offered sanctuary while relationships repeated cycles of abuse and addiction that culminated in homelessness. A tiny black cat became both companion and signpost through those years—shared meals on floors, a paralyzed body that nearly took her hope, and later the memory that would stitch past sorrow into future meaning. Motherhood intensified the stakes: a promise to give her daughter a better life, a move to Montreal, and the sharp terror of loss when a pregnancy threatened to end. In the ruin of those moments a dream and a small, steady love returned hope, and a daughter named Wednesday carried layers of meaning that only time and faith would uncover.
Along the way, God’s providence appeared not as spectacle but as patient threading—people who reappeared at exact moments, unlikely gifts that echoed Scripture, and the quiet conviction that suffering had been used to shape rather than erase. Scripture images—hope that waits, an anchor for the soul—became interpretive lenses for painful seasons, helping to see valleys as places where God plants and blooms. Tangible signs—the lily-of-the-valley, tattoos, a snowflake light shaped like a “g”—coalesced into a narrative in which past wounds were not wasted but were woven into a larger story of restoration. The culmination is a simple insistence: clinging to hope through the valley matters, because God is already working in the intervals and small mercies, turning trouble into a doorway of hope and drawing fragile lives into faith and community.
``I understood that while ending my life would have stopped things from ever getting worse, but it also would have stopped anything from ever getting better. And I'm so grateful that I held on to hope long enough to see the one who was working the whole time to make sure I was okay. And as I was sitting there still praying, I had ninety three point seven UCB radio on, and a song came on called Flowers by Samantha Everett. If you get the chance to listen to it, I think you'll understand why it felt like God was speaking directly to me in that moment.
[01:10:05]
(29 seconds)
#HeldOnToHope
Through suffering, God has shown me that every part of my story was handwritten with intention and purpose. Even when I couldn't see it, he knew exactly where it would lead me, and he led me all the way here through these doors. I never would have had a reason, especially in the middle of tragedy, to look at my husband and say, if we ever end up in a church, it would be his church. But God was already working behind the scenes. That year was full of small and unexpected connections.
[01:04:45]
(32 seconds)
#HandwrittenPurpose
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