It seems that hope is one of those things that we don’t think or talk too much about until we have lost it. But I can certainly attest to the fact that once we lose it, life can get pretty bleak. As I shared in My Story, life threw a destructive and debilitating curve ball at me and my family that just about took me down for the count. That was over a decade ago and since then I have learned a lot about hope on my journey.

It is my prayer that what I share here encourages those who have also lost hope and who desperately long to heal and move forward.

Just a reminder that I am not a medical professional, nor did I seek professional help. And to be completely honest with you, maybe I should have.

And so, dear reader, here’s what my experience has taught me about hope.

I’ll start with life before The Curve Ball. As I think back, it’s safe to say that I took hope for granted. Mainly because I didn’t really quite understand what it was. I did associate it with my faith and believed it was real, but I feel short of what a gift it truly was. And so . . . I kept it tucked away in my back pocket and pulled it out from time to time when I needed it. If life got a little hard or I was facing a difficult situation, I pulled it out, said some prayers, and then tucked it right back in my back pocket. I didn’t yet understand it’s power and I certainly didn’t understand that hope must be nurtured. However, just like a plant needs the right amounts of sunlight and water, our hope must be properly cared for in order for it to survive and thrive.

And so, when The Curve Ball hit, my hope was