Enduring Hope

Hope is not just something we hold onto. It has become the foundation of everything we do. Without it, we would have given up long ago. Psalm 37 reminds us that “those who hope in the Lord will inherit the land,” and we are watching that promise unfold in real time. We are learning to see this neighborhood not for what it has been, but for what it can become through the lens of hope.

Hope doesn’t sit still. It compels action. It gives us the courage to step into the unknown, to take risks, and to trust that God will meet us there.

One of the clearest pictures of this began with something simple: planting our first garden.

At the time, what surrounded us felt overwhelming. Every day, just outside our parking lot, the alley was filled with trash, sheds overflowing with debris, and an empty lot that had become an illegal dumping ground. Old dressers, broken mirrors, mattresses, tires. Everywhere we looked told a story of neglect and abandonment. It was easy to feel frustrated, even angry, asking, “Why doesn’t someone do something about this?”

For a long time, we believed it wasn’t ours to fix. “That’s the city’s responsibility,” we would say, walking past it day after day.

But something shifted after a time of prayer. One day, we drove by and saw a city truck clearing the lot. The space was suddenly clean, emptied of everything that had been there before. It felt like a tangible answer to prayer.

In that moment, hope turned into action.

Instead of waiting, we felt compelled to move. “Let’s plant a garden,” we said. “Let’s protect this space before the dumping starts again.” We went out that same day, bought fencing and posts, and couldn’t wait to get started. The next morning, we gathered our team and shared the vision. God had made a way, and now it was time to step in.

We worked the ground, built the fence, and planted that first garden.

What once felt lifeless began to grow. What once symbolized neglect now produces nourishment. Just as importantly, no one has dumped there since.

That small act became a turning point. It reminded us that hope isn’t passive. It invites us to participate, to restore, and to believe that transformation is possible. Where there was once brokenness, there is now life, and it all started with choosing to see through the lens of hope.

 Years later, we look back and recognize that moment as one of the starting points of what has now grown into an entire movement. Nearly ten years on, that same hope has spread across Allison Hill, transforming dump sites and restoring spaces throughout the neighborhood.