There are threads of common union woven in the stories of the heroes I’ve met in my lifetime. Now, to be clear, my heroes are very rarely those with big names or big followings. Rather, the people who are heroes to me are the ones who see hope hidden like a jewel in a knarled landscape of pain and, with trembling legs, rush in to lift it high. They are the ones who find beauty in shattered things, the souls who hear a symphony when others simply hear noise.
My heroes are unassuming, fully aware of their own frailty even as they gracefully carry the burdens of others. They are, to a person, wise beyond their years. They are – to a person – in abject dependence on a God who is relentless in His love.
And every one of my heroes would confess that the journey they are on isn’t the journey they had so carefully dreamed.
Because the journey is never what we think it will be. We grab a pen and carefully chart our course, but life in motion is big and full and more complex than any map we could fill with dates and plans. The journey takes longer, with lessons to be learned and healing to be done, and the heart of who we are to grow. The road isn’t always a road – sometimes it’s little more than the subtle hint of a path that can only be seen when the light hits in just the right way.
Yes, my heroes are the unlikely ones, the ones who would never call attention to themselves for doing great deeds. They are the ones who simply say, “Here I am.”
They are the ones who remind me the journey is worth-full.
Today, I want you to close your eyes and listen to the words of Alison Luna. She’s one of my heroes, though in my mind’s eye I can see her now, frowning at the thought that anyone would consider her life one to watch and take note of. But in her poetry and prose, this 20-something warrior has taught me much about steadfast love and hope.
You see, she can’t help but hope. Even when the road snaps like a switchback, it’s there. It shines.
“Even when I don’t feel hopeful – hope still finds a way…”
Yes, Alison. It does. And today, your words will pour hope into those who are on the journey that isn’t what was carefully planned.
Alison Luna, born and raised deep in the heart of Texas, is learning what it means to press in to the places that hurt in order to fight for joy. She loves her last name and finds promises written in the stars. You can find Alison wrestling with the idea of hope at http://aluna13.wordpress.com and tweeting it out in real time at @luna1387.
I fell in love with Alison in a wonderful sisterhood called The Story Sessions. If you are a woman with words to share, I invite you to meet the founder, Elora Nicole, and learn more.
<3 and needed today. Thank you both.
Anita, there are a few people in my life I specifically thought of when I first heard Alison’s words. You are one of those people. You walk your road with such faith and beauty. Thank you for being a great example of hope.
Absolutely beautiful. Both of you. Thank you for this amazing reminder.
Thank you, precious friend. I am thankful you are here to walk the road with me.
I’m weeping.
Oh sweet Elora, I can’t begin to thank you enough for the wings you have given so many of us. You are indeed a hero to me.
Amen
Abby, I look forward to the day I get to meet you face-to-face. You are an angel to Alison. I can see why.
Thank you. SHe is my people.
tears.
this is glorious.
Isn’t it though, Rachel? Alison’s voice speaks bravery to my heart.
Beautifully written. Our road more like a hint of a path you only can see when the light is right…that is so true. Ronne – you are a hero to so many of us. Thanks for sharing this story.
Wow. Hero. That word is so much easier to see when I’m using it talk about people like you. This girl wears it so awkwardly…but thank you.
I’m left with holy goosebumps and holy tears.
The night Alison sent her story to me, I listened – and everything around me faded. The words are divine, life-giving.
I could listen over. And over. And over.
“Here’s to sea legs.” Yes.
Thank you both.
Yes. Over and over. So very good.
“here’s to praying for sea legs” This very much feels like a toast to me, like I would raise my glass to yours and we would honor the community found in this difficult journey–just awesome!
Yes, Laura. I’ll raise my glass too.
Beautiful.
WoW, Alison, I remember this, and it’s even more powerful just hearing it. Sister you are waving a hope flag bravely. Thank you for sharing this Ronne! Tis so beautiful!
There’s something about her voice. And yes, that little white flag of hope is waving…
Alison, you’ve left me breathless.