Our circumstances might be abject, we might not think we can survive for one more day enslaved to illness, but God says, "My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.

...story is where hope begins.

We can feel isolated and powerless when living with chronic illness, but what if your story begins to bridge the barrier or open a way for someone to connect? What if your story offers a glimmer of hope to someone standing at the edge of desolation? ...What if your story starts the conversation?

...our stories are who we are, where we begin. They connect us, tearing down walls and shattering isolation. For story is where hope begins.

What if illness - the stripping away of our health, our dreams, our understanding of who we are and what our future holds - is really a gift - God offering Himself to us unencumbered by all the noise, all the things that clutter our hearts and so easily fill our days? Because what if that quiet, stripped-away space is where hope is found? Where God leans in close whispering love to our weary souls until it becomes as familiar as the beating of our own hearts?

Could our plodding, our daily persevering through a life we didn't expect, don't want and didn't choose, actually bring blessing?

And that afternoon, as the sun slanted low through the changing autumn leaves, I remembered to savor the moment, soak in the beauty, breathe deeply and feel the immensity of God.

Sustained loss can sometimes seem never-ending, like a bleak, eternal winter of the soul. Yet spring always returns. Even on the heels of the longest, coldest winter, tender new growth emerges from once frozen soil.