Heart Hope by Olga

Owning a bed and breakfast was a dream of mine for many years. It sounded exciting to have a place filled with visitors from all over the country or even the world. I wanted to have a home where people could come for rest and refreshment, but the door was never opened for me to own a place where people would come and pay to stay at my cute Victorian cottage or my log cabin or my country inn. Yet even though I don’t own a bed and breakfast, God has still granted me the desire of my heart. No, I might not get paid to have people come and stay with me, but I do have visitors from all over who come to visit throughout the year. Some are people that I have known forever, while others come as strangers but leave as “forever friends.”  God has blessed me with lots of rooms that can be filled. Sometimes it’s not just beds that are occupied, but sofas and blow up mattresses are too. Since I work full time, I only promise two things—clean sheets and clean bathrooms upon arrival after that t

Do you believe in Heaven and Hell? Most people probably do in some form or fashion. But what do we actually do about it? It was meant to be a quick trip to Wal-Mart to pick up bright colorful paper napkins to go with my paper plates for small group at my house tonight. (After all every good Southern girl knows that when you have company you are supposed to bring out all of your finery and since I was going to use the unacceptable paper products, I thought that they should at least be cute.) However God had other plans…surprise… surprise…surprise. Headed down Highway 6, I took the wrong turn, but figured I would just take the side road to get to my destination. But after missing the second turn off I pulled into City Market instead. Well, I mused, why did God want me at the grocery store instead of the big discount store? Entering the supermarket I ran into a young girl from church and had a quick conversation—that probably wasn’t the divine appointment. A few minutes later I saw a

Years ago in one of my early teaching assignments, I was placed in summer school working with a group of young women who were in the special school for pregnant and parenting teens. I was excited about the new challenge and began with the idea that I was going to make a difference in their lives, but I think the opposite took place—I was changed.  My expectations were that we would be one happy family as I taught them about parenting, but their plan was to make my life miserable. I didn’t understand how they could say and do the hateful things to me and I wanted to quit, but in order to secure a full-time position for the next year I had to return each day. I didn’t want to; in fact, I would cry all the way home and plead with God asking Him not to make me go back, but instead of releasing me from the job, He gave me instructions to “Kill them with kindness.” When an unkind remark was made, I would respond with an encouraging statement. When they would mock me to their friends, I wou

Will’s most recent experience with basketball was quite a success. At the awards ceremony he was given the Most Improved Player trophy. The coach gave a speech about how much my grandson’s game had improved, but another striking comment was that he always had a smile on his face. I’m not sure if other awards were given out, but I am awfully proud of Will for the one he received.  Most improved means that no matter where you started, you made the most progress. In basketball it might mean that you made more baskets, or you learned to dribble with ease or that you thought more about the team than your own skills.  In our Christian walk, I wonder how God would select the Most Improved Player. Do you think it would have anything to do with the things you are busy doing for Him? Or the one who memorized the most Bible verses? Or the one who had perfect attendance at church? Or the one who gave the most money to missionaries? Or do you think it would be given to the one who spent the most

Precious Mary in my Bible study group works in a high-end restaurant. One night while working she asked for a bite of the rich delectable ice cream offered on the dessert menu and her manager granted her wish by giving her a spoonful.  As the night drug on Mary noticed one of her co-workers was eating a oonful.  one  bowl filled with the scrumptious dessert. Mary confronted her boss and asked why she had only gotten a spoonful of the ice cream when the other person had gotten a whole bowl. The manager replied in a matter-of-fact tone, “You only asked for a bite and he asked for a whole bowl. If you had told me that you wanted a bowl you would have gotten it too.”  At Bible study Mary announced that she had been thinking about that incident and had determined that she is not willing to settle for just a bite of God and His Word; she wants the whole bowl. She wants to know Him intimately, be taught by Him fully and to serve Him passionately.  What is your desire? Do you want all of God

Apprehension was probably the word that described my emotions as I anticipated my volunteer job at the Snowball Music Festival. I was unsure about the kids that I would encounter and how they would act, however I must admit that I was pleasantly surprised. Most of them were nice and polite even if it was because they were high on a drug called ecstasy, which makes them mellow and non-combative. The young adults were not causing me problems, but one of the volunteers did give me grief. As is often the case with me, the conversation with him turned to faith. While on break inside trying to stay warm, the man told me that he attended a particular church in the Valley and since I was unfamiliar with it I proceeded to ask about the beliefs of the church. My new acquaintance began a dissertation about how many of our churches divide but that his unites everyone, no matter what their background, ethnicity, beliefs, etc. He also informed me that his church took the best from all major religio

Compass While on duty at my post for Snowball Music Festival, I came to the realization that most of the kids in attendance were lost. As they passed my station, I overheard many questions such as: Where am I? What street is this? Where are you? (to someone on the other end of the phone) Where is Agave? Where is the Westin? Where is the bus stop? But perhaps the most unusual request was when a young person actually came up to me and asked me where his car was located. Hmmmm…. How was I supposed to help them when they couldn’t even tell me any landmark they had passed along the way?  It’s a wonder that any of them made it home safely that night. As I stood on that dark cold street corner I prayed for those kids because not only where they physically lost in the small little town of Avon, Colorado, but probably the majority of them were lost spiritually as well.    While they treated me with respect and kindness when walking past as they would walk away the language would det

Yesterday I was involved in two events in the Vail Valley—Pink Vail and Snowball. In the morning I was at Pink Vail to support the local breast cancer center and be a part of the Twin Peaks Team. We skied the mountain, checking in at specific decks in order to participate in fun, festivities and the possibility of winning prizes. Last night, I was a volunteer at Snowball Music Festival with Snoop Dogg as the headliner. Now before you think I have lost my mind and gone off the deep end. I wasn’t there for the revelry and the music, but did it in order to get my free pass to the Recreation Center for the year. Positioned on the corner near the entrance, my job was to help keep the concert goers safe and report any inappropriate behavior. While standing there I began to compare and contrast the two events. Pink Vail versus Snowball…. Both had lots of pink, glitter, feathers, and highly unusual costumes but that’s about the only similarity that I could name One had hundreds of partic