In the summer of 2020, I taught the Bible study that would become Can I Borrow a Cup of Hope? at ClearView Community Church in Colorado. Sitting six feet apart in every other row of the sanctuary, with just as many women joining online, together we faced this scary season of mass trauma, fear, and uncertainty. A theme emerged for each chapter of 1 Peter, along with the beautiful face of a dear friend who had struggled and triumphed in that specific area. And in the middle of the hot mess that was 2020, each of them bravely and graciously agreed to fill your cup with their hope –  

Michelle is the kind of woman who can tell you chapter and verse what God’s Word says about whatever you’re facing. The last time I saw her husband, my dear friend Joe, cancer had caused his body to fade like the flower described in 1 Peter 1:24. I hope you have a girlfriend like Michelle; you need her more than you know. 

Although I went to the hospital to minister to Kelly and her family when her son, Josh, suffered a traumatic brain injury, they have been the ones to minister to me. Josh’s life verse is 1 Peter 2:17 and she taught me how we are still God’s chosen people even during suffering.

When Jennifer and I were in one another’s weddings we couldn’t have imagined her painful divorce. Her only goal was to hold her head high, no matter what happened. Jennifer followed Peter’s instruction to wives in 1 Peter 3:2 and watched her family follow Jesus in her footsteps in an untimely answer to her prayers.

Sarah’s grandparents built the Rocky Mountain cabin where I now live, and still live across the valley from me. God rescued Sarah from a life of addiction, abuse, alcoholism, and anger as she did the hard work of conforming her will to God’s ways as described in 1 Peter 4:2.  

Michelle, Kelly, Jennifer, and Sarah shared their stories for God’s glory . . . but there’s one more story that needs to be told.

Yours.

Don’t worry, I’ll show you how. Sharing your story might feel as nerve-racking as public speaking before a large crowd—naked. God may ask you to do that someday (with clothes on, of course), but mostly our stories are shared on park benches or at kitchen tables, intimate settings where we can look into someone’s weary eyes and wipe away one another’s tears. Someone is desperately thirsty for a sip from your cup of hope.