Hope Sightings

Fistula is Not a Women’s Issue…A Man’s View of Fistula

As a man who pursues his wife, desiring to love her well and support her in the things she is passionate about, it was easy to follow her to Angola, Africa to witness Hope For Our Sisters’ support for women with a fistula. Had I ever been to Africa? No. Know much about fistula? Nope. Did I think it’d be a little awkward being the only non-medical dude on a trip surrounded by women who are suffering from a birthing injury? Yup. And as the dutiful

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Hope is Alive in the Democratic Republic of the Congo

When I think about the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC), I think of pain and loss. 1. It is considered the worst place in the world to be a woman. 2. Since 1996, over 5.4 million people have died in a war between tribes (deadliest conflict in the world since WWII). Yet, beauty still exists here. The DRC is home to beautiful people, lush rainforests, flowing waterways, and…yes, even hope. We have the honor of partnering with HEAL Africa and

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It Began with Butterflies

Butterflies… What do they mean to you? To me they signify hope…transformation…becoming new and beautiful. As I look out at the snow falling, it seems a bit strange to be thinking of butterflies, but they are on my heart today. We have a butterfly as part of our Hope for Our Sisters logo. We chose this because it speaks to the potential transformation of women and girls suffering from fistula. Once healed through surgery, these precious sisters

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Thankful!

As I look ahead to Thanksgiving Day, I am thankful for every person who has Encouraged me along the way Mentored me as I pursue my life’s calling Prayed for our sisters awaiting healing Prayed for Hope for Our Sisters Joined the Hope for Our Sisters Team Joined the Board of Directors and Executive Committee Given of their time to Hope for Our Sisters Donated artwork and creative gifts for the benefit of our sisters with fistula Donated financial

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Out On A Limb

I can’t do this. It’s not coming together. Maybe I got it wrong. What was I thinking? These were my thoughts in September of 2010, three months after receiving my calling to raise awareness and support for women and girls with fistula. God asked me to invite women to serve in this way together, but I couldn’t find them. My hope, courage and boldness had transformed into despair, fear and insecurity. Not a great start, huh? But God had a plan

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Fall Into His Rhythm

Exhausted. Out of breath. My arms ache from the strain. I keep rowing with all my might. Got to get through. Got to get to where I can see the way ahead again. Got to work harder, faster, and better. Exhausted still. I have been working so hard to get through this veil of haze that I have not heard it. Have you heard it? The small voice in the wind? The small voice of God inviting us to “Trust Me and fall into My rhythm.” “Trust Me and fall

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Life Found Amidst Death

My beautiful plant was dead. Or so I thought. All I saw were dead flowers…brown, dry. I had forgotten to water my plant. As I got closer, I saw one bud. One bud trying to grow. One bud trying to bloom. I felt led to prune the plant of the dead flowers. As I worked, I saw another bud. Very small, but there. I then saw another one. Then three more. Bright, pink, beautiful. Fighting to bloom. Fighting to become the flowers they were meant to be. I

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She’s There

When I began this journey, this journey to speak out for women and girls with fistula, she was standing along my path A beautiful young girl from Africa…standing with no expression, just waiting and hoping I saw her in my dreams I saw her in my prayers She is why I do this work She has dreams and hopes Dreams and hopes that are being stifled Dreams and hopes that need to take flight As I approach the end of my fourth year on this journey, this

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Surprised!

Be ready to be surprised. That was the message of my devotional that morning. Be ready…to be surprised. Surprised by what? Something big? Something small? Would I even notice it? I went about my day with eyes and ears open…ready to be surprised. I was scheduled to speak at a church in Holden, so I hit the road early that morning. I had spoken about fistula with the members of this church in 2013 and was invited back to share about our trip to

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Finding Jesus in a Gallon of Paint

Can you really find Jesus in a gallon of paint? I did. Have you ever had one of those days when you knew you needed to stay at home? Even though you had good, life-nourishing plans on your calendar, you had this sense that you needed to wipe the slate clean, stay home and let the day unfold? Today was one of those days for me. Strangely enough, I had a strong urge to paint. I could not see a connection to Lent or Easter, but the urge was strong so

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