Darkness is familiar to all of us. It's where we sleep, watch movies, sit around campfires, eat fancy candle-lit meals, and stub our toes scrounging around for a midnight snack in the fridge.
But for some of us, darkness is not distinctive. It doesn't surprise us anymore. We don't even notice it because it is where we've lived most of our lives. There are those of us who are well-acquainted with the dark. It has become like an old friend, one we know is draining all the life from us, but one we just can't seem to shake.
This is especially and heartbreakingly true for some of our Homesteaders.
Well, at least... it was.
Beaten. Burned. Raped repeatedly. Manipulated and coerced. Conditioned. Drugged. Dragged. Hidden away. Tortured. Enveloped in darkness.
These are just bits of their stories that they share with us when they come to the Homestead.
For many of them, this is the first place they truly felt safe. Truly felt unconditionally loved. Truly felt that they could come into the light and be accepted fully for who they are, as they are today.
Truly felt hope.
You see, healing is extremely difficult without hope. No. Not even difficult, impossible. Without the hope that moving forward will someday be worth it, each step is too painful, too much to ask, too uncertain.
But with hope, there is strength.
"Many are saying of me, 'God will not deliver him.' But you, LORD, are a shield around me, my glory, the One who lifts my head high. I call out to the LORD, and he answers me from his holy mountain. I lie down and sleep; I wake again, because the LORD sustains me. I will not fear though tens of thousands assail me on every side." (Psalm 3:2-6)
David should have been hopeless at this point. Honestly, the easy thing would have been to surrender to the evil that pursued him, to beg for mercy and pray for a miracle.
But he knew Hope was stronger. And he knew Hope had a name.
It means "the I AM is here." With us. In the darkness. Walking forward with us, carrying us home when we cannot stand.
And what did David find? Complete healing. Redemption. Beyond his wildest dreams.
Because he would never see his line of descendants unfold to present Yahweh in human form. The ultimate act of healing, the ultimate miracle.
Each of our lives can be a David story. A chapter that is weaved into the Book of Life telling of God's redemptive history.
That's our mission here at the Homestead: to listen to stories of darkness and to infuse light into them, page by page. To tell our own stories of struggle and a Savior who has stooped down to our level, understood our darkness fully and completely, and conquered it finally, once and for all. To walk forward, hand-in-hand, towards our true home. To empower stories of hope, redemption, and eternal healing.
Will you join us?
Our first and most immediate need at the Homestead is funding. In order to continue to serve this population of women that our hearts beat so deeply for, we need generous people who are willing not just to donate, but to partner with us for the long haul. If this is something your heart might beat for, too, contact us here and get some details here. If a one-time donation is your thing, head here.
We are always accepting inquiries for volunteers to walk alongside our sweet women and to donate their energies and time and talents. If that's something that plucks at your heartstrings, this is where you oughta go.
We even have some full-time job openings available. To learn more about if those fit your skill/gift set, head this way.
We are so thankful for the consistent generosity and outpouring of love to this ministry. You give us hope. You give us healing. You are an instrument of Yahweh, God with us.