Garden of Hope

By Terri Conlin

Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past.
See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.

Isaiah 43:18-19

Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans as she flung her fury as far inland as a hundred miles along the coasts of Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama. One year later, Katrina’s recovery was not yet complete. Shannon Fox’s was just beginning. She called the ministry number on the television screen and two months later boarded a plane for Mississippi.

A church group driving south from Indiana picked her up at the airport for the drive to Moss Point. Shannon felt God’s tug just as she had when trying to reclaim her childhood. She drove cross-country to Oregon with a man she barely knew, her Dad. She reckoned this hour ride with complete strangers would be a breeze. For the next week this crew shared meals and lodging, days laboring in the hot sun, and nights in devotions led by Bishop Cunningham.  He introduced her to the Carpenter. Shannon’s eye swept the horizon and saw both remnants of coastal damage and the rebuilding of Miss Jean’s home. She was trying to locate her heart among the damage.

Her old life was flooded with turmoil and anger. It was time to rebuild on higher ground. Bishop Cunningham recommended Rolling Hills Community Church. Sawdust flying, she joined both a new believer’s Bible study and a Community Group. One ray of sunshine warmed Shannon’s heart, a glimpse peeking though the clouds after torrential rains. Her name was Elaine Fowler.  Elaine was there on the day of Shannon’s baptism when dripping wet, she captured her decision for Christ with the mention of a song, “Jesus Take the Wheel.” She would stand by her again when the hammer and nails of reconstruction pierced Shannon’s soul.

First, a gentle comment about the devastation of abortion for a woman. The wind picked up in Shannon’s memory. Then a billboard on the way to church thundered, “46 million babies dead since  Roe v. Wade.” Shannon felt dark clouds gather to the wind, a storm was brewing in the gulf. The church service was filled with baby bottles, a video flashed on the screen; beautiful babies in the womb. At eight weeks a tiny heart beat in perfect rhythm. A gale force wind ripped through Shannon’s soul. Rain fell like glass. The levy broke.

To repair the devastation, Shannon joined a Bible study called HEART (Healing & Encouragement for Abortion Related Trauma).  She began to sort through life’s rubble right here at Rolling Hills, among the shelter of God’s tender mercies.  Her shoreline was littered with dirt and debris but, among the guilt, sorrow and regret, truth washed in with the tide. For the first time she saw clearly God’s attributes, life in the womb, the chaos of her anger, and the lies she believed—so many lies.

Reconstruction continues. But now when Shannon views the horizon, the windswept sky is a bittersweet blue over lavender fields with a view of Mount Hood. Her boy rests in peace in the Carpenter’s arms in a place called Garden of Hope. She can be found holding babies in the church nursery. ©

Contact Terri at whitepitchers.com