A Habit of Hope
Hope. A small word. A powerful word. Are you in need of some hope today? I want to share a story from my archives about a habit of hope. At the end I have a fantastic free ebook to share: A Breath of Hope: A Desert Photo Collection, so read to the end!!
I did not inherit my Mom's green thumb, but this past weekend, I realized I inherited something much more valuable - a habit of hope.
On a Friday this spring, I got up early to attend a plant sale at the Desert Botanical Gardens in Phoenix, an event I had wanted to attend for several years. I went to replace the dead carcasses of six plants that had not survived the oven temperatures of our Arizona summer.
The event started at 7:00 a.m. I got there at 6:45. There were 200 people in front of me.
Black Friday shopping has nothing on cactus and succulents.
Once inside the entrance, I wandered among the potted plants, reading the tags and descriptions. I wanted to buy plants that attracted bees and butterflies and could thrive in full sun.
Butterfly Bush and Guara Lindheimeri went into my basket. I had no idea what the second plant was, but the pink orchid-like flowers enticed me.
"Does lavender do well this time of year?" I asked an assistant.
"Lavender does very well. You will find it over with the bushes."
I added 2 one-gallon tubs to my basket. Lavender had been my mother's favorite scent.
Vivid in my memory is a photo my sister took of Mom a few days before Dad died. A hospital bed had arrived several days earlier so Mom could fulfill Dad's wish to spend his last days at home.
Friends and family had been coming in a constant stream and Mom had needed a breather as caregiver.
Given a few moments to herself, Mom didn't wash the pile of dishes in the kitchen sink. She didn't fold the laundry waiting in a basket downstairs. She didn't answer the multitude of emails or phone calls with people sending their love.
Mom put on her gardening gloves and planted a rainbow. With her husband of fifty-five years in the house behind her, she knelt in the damp earth and planted hope in the flower bed under the picture window.
I do not have Mom's green thumb, but every fall and spring, with Arizona's two growing seasons, I find myself in a line buying my own hope, hope that will bloom in a desert.
I dig a hole in the ground, add some mulch and wait for beauty. The flowers I plant are nothing like the flowers Mom planted. The soil is different. The seasons are different.
But the hope is the same.
Writer Lewis Smedes says this about hope, "A person who has the habit of hope also has the habit of remembering. Hope needs memories the way a writer needs notes. This is partly because hope depends so much on imagination. If we expect to keep hope alive, we need to keep memory alive."
Imagination. Beauty. Memory. Hope.
A habit of hope. Something I inherited from my mother.
You will find it in my backyard.
With the bees and butterflies.
******
Do you need a whisper of hope today? Sometimes in the forgetting places of our lives, we need to be reminded to hang on with both hands.
Is this you? Are you struggling to breathe in desert darkness? Are you wondering if it is the time to bloom? Are you exhausted in the waiting?
Take heart. Please, take heart.
(And I have a free giveaway for you.)
This month marks my 10th anniversary of being a cancer survivor. I wanted to create and offer something beautiful to give to my readers as one of the ways of celebrating, of passing along my habit of hope. I am thrilled to offer a 12-page ebook of desert photos taken by me and my family. On each page you will also find a quote about hope, including a quote from this blog.
Do you need some hope today? Or maybe you simply want to access the beautiful photos? Please click on the link to obtain your free copy of Breath of Hope: A Desert Photo Collection. Do you know someone else who needs a little hope? Would you consider sharing this blog post?
Let's pass along a habit of hope.
ABOUT LYNNE HARTKE Lynne Hartke shares stories of courage, beauty, and belonging--belonging to family, to community, and to a loving God. Lynne is the author of Under a Desert Sky: Redefining Hope, Beauty, and Faith in the Hardest Places. Lynne is the creator and teacher of the online writing workshop, Reclaim Your Scattered Story: a 6-week Online Writing Workshop for Those Touched by Cancer. She also teaches in-person at Ironwood Cancer and Research Center in Chandler, AZ. Lynne is a 2018 Voice of Hope with the American Cancer Society. When not out on desert trails avoiding rattlesnakes, Lynne and her husband, Chandler Mayor and Pastor Kevin Hartke, attempt to keep up with their four grown children and four grandchildren.