Hope

This weekend was about retreating into time of relaxation. Myself and some other leaders from our church plant went to National Bridge State Park in Kentucky to spend time fellowshipping with one another and God, to get quiet away from the busyness of our everyday lives, to connect with the beauty of nature, and to just have fun. Well, goals met. It was amazing. Just a great time to unplug in order to recharge.

During our last day there, one of my friends saw a deer outside the window of the cabin in which we were staying. He was really delighted, as were others. I found myself not moving to see it, thinking about how I have a family of deer who I see enter my backyard from the woods behind my house about once a month or so, so what is the big deal about seeing one out here? So I ignored it. Boy, do I regret that now.

Later as I was driving back home from the trip and away from our retreat area, I found my heart sinking into sadness. I live alone, and I knew full well that going from a time of such great community and fellowship with people I love to an empty house would be a very difficult transition for me. I was ready for it, yet it still hit. I slept for like three hours when I got home even though I rarely take naps. I finally forced myself to get up and call some friends to go out, as staying there any longer could only lead to slipping further into that pit, and that would be far from healthy.

As I was driving to Baba’s where we were meeting for coffee before catching Capote at the Esquire, I saw a horrible sight. I saw a deer on the side of the road, freshly wounded by a passing car. As I drove by, my headlights illuminated the deer’s face, and I saw a look of suffering that I can’t erase from my mind. And I felt it right away – this was one of my deer. One of the deer that visits my backyard. One of the deer I was counting on for beauty in this city far away from the cabin oasis we had visited. One that I was counting on being here so much that I took the sight of another beautiful creature for granted.

Somehow this became about more than a deer for me. It was about dashed hopes and opportunities. That deer on the side of the road represented the opportunities that I hope for being ripped away before I have a chance to give my all to cherish and enjoy them. It represented the previous opportunities I have squandered away thinking that the next would still be waiting for me around the corner. But there was that next opportunity suffering at the edge of death on the side of a parkway. Hope deferred. Hope destroyed.

I did my best to gather myself and enjoy my time with some great friends. It turned out to be a good time. We later said our goodbyes through some laughter, and I headed home.

Pulling into my driveway, I couldn’t believe my eyes. I know that sounds dramatic, but it is true. Because there in my backyard standing frozen in my headlights was a doe. One doe. Maybe she was alone and that was her companion I had seen earlier. Or maybe she wasn’t, and I just couldn’t see the others from where I was. Maybe it was the same doe as has visited me in the past, or maybe it was a completely different one. It didn’t really matter. Because regardless, standing right in front of me was another opportunity. Another chance to experience beauty, to cherish something I thought was gone forever. Hope renewed. And I needed that. I really did.