Where Is The Hope In Your Story?

"I struggled for many years to fully believe that (my son) Teddy's life, that my life could be good. I saw all around me ways that Teddy's life would be limited and that my life in turn would have limits too. There is a verse in the Bible that says that, "God uses the foolish things of the world to shame the wise, and the weak to shame the strong." In short, that God's idea of good and our idea of good are pretty different.

Slowly, life with Teddy has opened up my eyes to experience more of God's idea of good.

I long to see God's goodness and grand gestures to make doubt disappear in a moment, to make limited things limitless. But I have hope in a God who entered the world through Jesus as a baby of all things... whose grandest act of love for you and for me was not in undoing all the political mess or human suffering of the moment, but in suffering himself. And in so doing, giving me, giving you, giving us hope for a truly good life."

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Westside member Hannah Heck shares her "reason for the hope" from 1 Peter 3:15.

Hannah shares her journey of faith, beginning with her upbringing in a Christian home that emphasized regular church attendance. Despite her early commitment to her faith, her beliefs were tested during her time at Harvard, particularly after the September 11 attacks. The tragedy sparked a profound season of doubt, where the reality of mortality and a broken world felt overwhelming. In this darkness, she longed for a grand revelation from God, but instead found comfort in the daily expressions of love from her friends, which helped sustain her faith over time.

The birth of her son, Teddy, who has Down syndrome, further challenged her understanding of a "good life." Initially, she struggled to accept the limitations that she believed Teddy's condition imposed on their lives. However, as she navigated these challenges, she began to see God's goodness in unexpected ways. A poignant moment occurred during a family vacation when Teddy innocently acknowledged a homeless man with kindness, reminding Hannah that true goodness often lies in simple, genuine connections rather than grand gestures. Through these experiences, she learned to embrace a faith that recognizes God's presence in the ordinary, and she encourages others to reflect on the hope woven into their own stories.

Further Thinking

After you read/watch Hannah's story, consider using the following questions as journaling prompts or springboards for deeper thinking about your own life and story.

1. Faith and Doubt
When have I experienced doubt in my faith?
Have any ordinary moments lately brought me new understanding about how God works?
Why am I a Christian today?

2. God’s Goodness

Where have I unexpectedly seen God’s goodness in my life?
Have humans in my life un/intentionally showed me the goodness of God?

3. Perspective

Are there areas in my life that I view as limitations?
How might God be revealing deeper truths or unexpected goodness through those limits?

4. Intentional Living

What are my values?
Do they reflect the goodness of God or does the correlation feel ambiguous?

5. Hope
What are the sources of hope in my life?
Is there a daily or weekly practice that would help sustain hope in my life?
Where would it be possible in my day-to-day to pause and find hope?

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Transcript

I'm Hannah Heck, and my husband, Jeff, and I have been at Westside since the beginning, and we have added a few people to the roster since our being here. We have our oldest son, Teddy. We've got our daughters, Kenser, Liza, and Ollie. As Ozzie and Jeff shared, throughout the fall, Westside is engaging in this question of public faith. You might've seen the verse in the hallway out here or on these olive trees in the lobby from 1st Peter 3:15, which asked Christians to, "Always be prepared to give a reason for the hope that is within you." I'm so grateful to share my reason with you all today.

I grew up in a home where my mom and dad were Christians and we went to church every Sunday. To be honest, and sometimes much to my chagrin, we also went Wednesday nights and Sunday nights too. From a young age, I wanted to be a Christian. I asked God to forgive me. I trusted him. I prayed. I read my Bible. I went to youth group and then I graduated high school and I went off to Harvard, and there I got involved and a campus ministry, found a church and met some Christian friends who are to this day, some of my favorite people in the world. In the first few weeks of my sophomore year, September 11th happened. The planes who crashed into the towers in New York left from Boston, the city I was living in, and there were a lot of people in and around me who were impacted. The before and after of that day felt stark. The subway, the airport, walking through the city, there were signs and marks that the world would not be as it was.

And I'll be honest, I'm a little embarrassed to be shedding some tears before you this morning. I'm a little embarrassed to have a national tragedy as part of my personal story, but the events of that day triggered a long season of doubt and my faith in God as a 19-year-old. The reality that I was mortal and that the world was broken felt very close, and the goodness of God felt very far. I wanted God to reveal himself in some grand way and he seemed absolutely quiet. Perhaps if God had revealed himself in some grand way, I might have a more interesting story to share with you this morning, but the events of that day and in that season, I can see now in hindsight that God revealed himself daily through the consistent love of my friends and people in my life. I consider it a miracle that I continue to want to be around Christians.

I remember singing a song in church whose lyrics were, "Bless the Lord, oh my soul," and I belted it out as a hopeful command, eager for my soul to follow suit. I prayed then more than I had in my entire life, desperate prayers, much more along the lines of David and Psalm 102, "Do not hide your face from me in my distress." I really wanted God to shock me with his goodness, the goodness of his presence as I had in a single moment been so shocked to see the brokenness around me. There was no single moment or conversation, no brilliant book or thoughtful sermon, not even a special Bible verse that brought me out of that dark season, but years later, I would observe in talking to Jeff, I don't really struggle with doubt now. I wanted a grand gesture from God, but what I experienced was the ordinary miracle of sustaining faith.

Organic metaphors are apt here. If you've ever watched time-lapse photography, that moment where the plant bursts through the soil is miraculous and beautiful, but there is all this work that is happening in the cover of that dark soil that is unseen to the eye but miraculous nonetheless. God did not answer my prayers then in the way that I wanted. I do not know why I went through such a season, but I do know that God preserved and grew my faith in spite of doubt. That season grew in my heart a desire for God. I experienced the sustaining beauty of what the Bible calls the body of Christ, or it's this mysterious ability to experience who God is through the imperfect people who follow him. I learned to cry out for God, to ask why and how long? I learned to want God desperately.

Another date that jumps out in my mind is one of those where there's a very clear before and after, is January 25th, 2009. That is the day that Teddy was born, my beloved son, a beloved fixture on the front row of our church on Sundays. He went to first service today. It was on that date that we learned our son had down syndrome. I struggled for many years to fully believe that Teddy's life, that my life could be good. I saw all around me ways that Teddy's life would be limited and that my life in turn would have limits too. There is a verse in the Bible that says that, "God uses the foolish things of the world to shame the wise, and the weak to shame the strong." In short, that God's idea of good and our idea of good are pretty different.

Slowly, life with Teddy has opened up my eyes to experience more of God's idea of good. One vignette I have shared before comes to mind as an example. A summer several years ago, our family was on vacation in Canada. As we walked into a store, there was this middle-aged man in a dirty brown jacket, sitting on the sidewalk outside the shop with a cup in one hand and a sign in the other, asking for money. I have a background in law and public policy, and as I walked through the store, I was thinking, "Man, I haven't seen anybody that was homeless in Canada. I wonder about the experience of poverty in our two countries," and it just preoccupied my mind. And as we walked out of the store, Teddy stopped and he leaned down and he touched the man's face gently, and he said, "Cool beard."

My comparatively limitless college educated policy wonked mind walked through the store thinking about the problems the man faced, and Teddy, whose limits are sometimes more obvious, walked by and saw the man. He saw the man, a man with a really cool beard to whom he was not afraid to get close. I long to see God's goodness and grand gestures to make doubt disappear in a moment, to make limited things limitless. But I have hope in a God who entered the world through Jesus as a baby of all things. I serve a God who does show his goodness through grand gestures, but often in ways that are the least expected. Whose grandest act of love for you and for me was not in undoing all the political mess or human suffering of the moment, but in suffering himself. And in so doing, giving me, giving you, giving us hope for a truly good life.

I invite you to reflect on where the hope is in your story. Perhaps you can write it down and put it on the olive trees in the lobby, but certainly to reflect today and the coming months on where is that hope. The ways of God are upside down. I have hope in the middle of all my days because of this kind of God. Thank you.

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