Life is Muddy; Hope is Secure

“I hope the parking lot is paved,” I said as we neared the country church in an unseasonably early mid-October snowfall. The thick snow fell so quickly at times, we seemed encased in a snow globe, the landscape layered in white. It was a beautiful scene, but not ideal conditions for the annual fall harvest dinner at this rural Minnesota parish.

Ahead of us I saw vehicles packing the lot and spilling onto an adjacent lawn. As Randy swung our van toward the church, I observed that only the front portion of the lot was asphalt, the rest a muddy mess. And that’s exactly where the parking attendant directed us—right into the mud. I held no hope that I could easily get to the church basement and the turkey and ham dinner and trimmings without traversing the mire.

I stepped from the van onto a soggy patch of grass, hesitated, and then tiptoed through sodden soil sucking at my shoes, all the while hoping I wouldn’t slip into a puddle. Only four months out from a fall that left me with a broken wrist and subsequent surgery to implant a plate, I wasn’t taking any chances. I moved with caution, eyes focused downward. My husband, laced into sturdy boots, walked with confidence.

I’d nearly reached the firm foundation of the sidewalk when I noticed a cross lying in the muck. I stopped, considered whether I should bend and retrieve the jewelry glittering with faux gems. Then I thought better of the thought and determined that Randy in his safety tread boots would be better positioned than I to pick up the cross. He honored my request, pulled the cross pin from the mud, and then turned it into the ticket sellers.

It took me half a day to realize the value in that experience. It’s like God dropped that cross into the mud as an object lesson. There I was, in the middle of a muddy church parking lot, that beautiful cross just lying there, pristine and sparkling on a dismal day. That piece of jewelry represented hope to me.

In the mire of life’s challenges, I too often get stuck in fear, replaying worst scenario results. I hesitate to step out in faith and hope, trusting that God walks beside me in sturdy boots. But He does. No matter my doubts, my hesitation, my fear, He guides me through whatever difficulty with the assurance that He is there. All the way to eternity. I need not fear if I choose to focus on the firm foundation of the cross rather than on the slippery mud beneath my feet.

I need to choose hope, a powerful word written into scripture many times. I’ve printed and taped several of those inspirational hope-themed verses onto my office desk just above my computer screen. On days when I find my mind muddied by too much worry, I need only glance up to read:

We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure (Hebrews 6:19, NIV).

But those who hope in the Lord…will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint (Isaiah 40:31, NIV).

And then, finally, my favorite, the Bible passage a long-ago pastor selected for me on my Confirmation Day: Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go (Joshua 1:9, NIV). Yes, He will. Even when I’m treading through a muddy church parking lot, hesitant and cautious.

As a wordsmith, Audrey Kletscher Helbling values words like “hope.” As a photographer, she values, too, visuals that she can connect to words. Many opportunities exist to see God in our lives, if only we choose to notice those moments, like that of a cross in a muddy church parking lot.