Before Helen died, she bought us a set of couches.

She sat with us on one of them watching a movie the night she died. After she was gone, we did a lot of life on those couches.

A year later, our first baby was born, and I propped his tiny, swaddled body on the spot where his Grandma Helen had last sat. Friends came over and sprawled around the living room, hanging out, chatting, eating. I cleaned up little spills on the couch from my toddler. I enjoyed peaceful movie nights curled next to my husband after the kids finally fell asleep.

But my favorite thing about my couch is the memories it holds of all the people who have warmed the seat next to mine as they’ve shared their story.

Confession.

Tears.

Ugly, painful experiences relived.

Dark secrets brought into the light. Seasoned at times with deep, palpable silence. Brightened with unexpected laughter.

When God spoke to Moses through the burning bush, He told him to take off his sandals, because he was standing on holy ground. Sometimes God transforms my living room into such a holy place, I get a taste of what Moses must have felt. Any place can be holy. Even a couch that looks a little tired.

In counseling, I have clients. In doing life with people, I have “Couch Time”.

Over the years, so many beautiful, shining nuggets of truth have spilled out during Couch Time. About God, about restoration, about forgiveness, about healing.

But mostly… and this is my favorite part… about hope.

Hope is a living, breathing entity, wrapped up in the character of God. Grasping hope with both hands helps us rise above the darkness of this life and live higher.

Hope points us to our purpose, and gives us a reason to press forward.

Are you in need of hope?

Come warm the seat next to mine, and let’s see what God does.

Welcome to my Couch.

 

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