hope is in the hills
and in the green of summer
faith is make-believe, a dream that will come true
love, the innocent fire, allied to the Burning Flame
a deep desire cancelled for the sake of loves pure joy
I wrote this poem when I was 19 years old, living in Uganda for a summer. Green, verdant hills were all around us everywhere we went. They spoke peace and hope to me in a very lonely place in my life. They let me know that God was with me, even to the ends of the earth.
He worked magic in my heart that summer. He brought to the surface every hope and dream I had that was not His. I offered myself up to Him in a way I never had. The sacrifices He called me to make were so small, and still are so small. I gave Him everything.
He bled. He died. He rose.
His voice still speaks hope to me when I see the hills.