On the Right Track

On Hope

This essay is in response to Tara Penry’s (@TaraPenry) substack:

The Hope Library - What's Your Story?

And here it is: the book that gave me hope.

When I was in my early thirties I was a mess, lost, lonely, confused about who I was, and what path to take. I was in the early years of graduate school, living in shared housing in a mansion on Capitol Hill in Seattle that overlooked Lake Union. It was beautiful but I didn’t know any of my roommates. We only saw each other in the kitchen. At that stage of my life, I didn’t know how to be the one who reached out, so we tried not to get in each other’s way and ate in silence. The mansion had once been glorious but had been taken over people who thought orange and purple walls were lovely. They had painted over the wonderful woodcarving on fireplaces, and the balusters and newel posts of the grand staircase. Imagine high ceilings and large rooms with wonderful views and popcorn ceilings. It was gradually being lovingly restored by the people who owned it, and I could see glimpses of its former glory. But it had an empty feeling about it, which can so often happen in shared living situations where there is no love at the heart of it.

I remember those years as a time of desolation, longing, and a deep desire for connection. Only a few years before I had been involved in a cult. Having escaped that, I was still in mental turmoil. I wanted to become a Benedictine nun, but those hopes had collapsed. Probably with my withdrawn personality and tendency for depression, it is a good thing that I did not become a nun because I would not have been a good one. Graduate school was also not going well. It was a very dark time for me.

Somehow I found the book The Road Less Traveled by M. Scott Peck. I read it and was given hope, so much hope I wrote it down as a poem. This poem was written on February 27, 1985, forty years ago almost to the day.

 Oh hope of hopes
the sweetest!
To be whole, to be
true, to be right, 
right as rain,
to be righteous!
Is it possible that I,
even I, can hope 
for wholeness,
and more astounding,
that I am nearer
whole than not,
on the right track?

To find myself 
already found,
more whole than cracked,
more true than false
encourages me endlessly.
To find that somehow, 
wandering blindfolded
in a maze,
I have found my way
nearer home
gives me hope.

From a distance of forty years, I can see the hand of God at work in that time. I was learning who I was even though I didn’t recognize it. I see some of my journal entries and know that God has brought them to fulfillment in him.

Tony Esolen posted this hymn on his substack today. I invite you to check it out because it is an apt response to God’s hidden action in our lives..

When Morning Gilds the Skies

In thanksgiving for God’s faithfulness I post four verses of lyrics here. You can sing along as you listen.

When morning gilds the skies,
My heart awaking cries:
May Jesus Christ be praised!
Alike at work and prayer
To Jesus I repair:
May Jesus Christ be praised!

To Thee, my God above,
I cry with glowing love,
May Jesus Christ be praised!
The fairest graces spring
In hearts that ever sing,
May Jesus Christ be praised!

Does sadness fill my mind?
A solace here I find,
May Jesus Christ be praised!
Or fades my earthly bliss?
My comfort still is this,
May Jesus Christ be praised!

Be this, while life is mine,
My canticle divine,
May Jesus Christ be praised!
Be this th’ eternal song
Through all the ages long,
May Jesus Christ be praised!